Station: A Pessimistic View

Station. In all the world there is no more important word. It is the calling of religion, an incessant pulling of hungering heartstrings. Ambition overrides good sense and compassion is thrown away

in its face.

Ascension to power in society is a simple process of assassination. Celestials of chaos and all the true rulers of the world, do not look with ill favour upon ambitious individuals wielding poison.

Of course, there are rules of behaviour, every society must boast of these. To openly commit murder or wage war invites the pretence of justice and penalties exacted in the name of justice, are merciless. To stick a dagger in the back of a rival during the bedlam of larger battles or in the quiet shadows of an alley is acceptable, even applauded. Investigation, after all, is not the forte of justice. Nobody cares enough to bother.

Station is the way of life, an ambition that bestows to further the anarchy, to keep people along their appointed course of self-imprisonment. We are all but puppets on the imperceptible but impervious strands of a web. We all climb, we all hunt for pleasure, and fall to the hunters of their pleasure.

Station is the paradox of people, the limitation of our power within the voracity for control. It is gained through treachery and invites treachery to those who gain it.

Those most powerful in the world spend their days watching over their shoulders, defending against the daggers that would find their backs.

Their downfall usually comes from the front.

Written in 2007

#OldWritings #Station