Life in the Army Once there was a little green blob. It could not see because it had no eyes, It could not hear because it had no ears. It did not know that it was a little green blob, It just was. Then came the shiny toy soldiers, Of whom the little green blob had been created. They poked the little green blob with their swords. They cut the blob, They moulded the blob, They pinched the blob, They threw paint at the blob, They punched their stamps into the blob, They rubbed their chemicals into the blobs' flesh. And when they were done the little green blob looked almost like a shiny toy soldier. Then they stamped a face onto the new soldier. They cut ears out of the new soldiers' head. They painted eyes onto the new soldier. And then the soldier could see, And then the soldier could hear. The new shiny toy soldier looked around, For now it had eyes. It saw that it was, and that others were too. The shiny toy soldiers talked to the new shiny toy soldier, For now it had ears. They told it that it was he, And that he was a shiny toy soldier. And he believed them. They told him, they were officers, And that they knew what was right. And he believed them. The soldier looked around him and saw black and yellow. The officers told him that black was white, and yellow was brown. And he believed them. The soldier listened and heard silence. The officers told him this was God talking. And he believed them. The soldier looked and listened to the other soldiers around him. They were pointing at an empty space, And talking about the magnificent pedestal that stood there. The officers told him there was a pedestal there. And he believed them. Now he knew that the officers were right, And he felt certain about what he was. And he could see the world in white and brown, And it looked safe. And he could hear the whispers of God, And they gave him hope. And he could then see the pedestal, Holding aloft all that was glorious about the shiny toy soldiers, Where moments before there had been nothing. The shiny toy soldier walked with some of the other shiny toy soldiers, But they laughed at him because he did not march. So the soldier started to march like the other soldiers did, And it was uncomfortable but he knew it was right. And soon it felt good. And the officers told him that as he grew he would rise in rank, Through hard work and determination, Till he too was an officer. Then he would work harder, And maybe one day be a general. And this was what everyone wanted, And this was what everyone did. And he believed them, And he knew the purpose of his life. The soldier worked hard, And learnt what life was, And what he needed to do to move up in rank. After much struggle and pain he became a sergeant. And it was worth it. And he was proud. One day some more small green blobs appeared. And they weren't shiny toy soldiers. So the officers and the soldiers stamped and crafted the blobs, For it was right. And they too began to look like everyone else. And the soldier also stamped new blobs. Just in passing, as he walked by, And it was normal so it was right. And the soldier laughed at the new soldiers, When they weren't normal. And people began to respect him and do what he said, For they were scared he would hurt them too. And he became a corporal. And inside him somewhere, Beneath the paint and metal, Quivered a little green blob. Afraid that it was not a shiny toy soldier. Afraid that everything it had ever seen had been wrong. Afraid that everything it had done to get it's rank meant nothing. Afraid that if stoped screaming what it knew was true as loud as it could, for even a moment, it might hear something else. Afraid of getting hurt. So the corporal told the new soldiers what they were, So they would know. And this helped him to remember what he was. And kept the voices that were screaming what he knew was true in his ear from getting quieter. But sometimes, When the corporal was on his own, When the voices of the other soldiers weren't there to reinforce his own, He wondered about what he knew were lies. And questioned. But soon he would return to the others, And be busy with the important work of rising in rank. And he wouldn't have time to think, Only to focus on achieving what he knew was right. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Till one day he sat alone. And shut-up. And he could see the black engulfing him, And the yellow burning his eyes. And could not no longer hear God whispering to him, Only his own voice trying to sound like God. And he knew that he had only been pretending the pedestal had been there, Holding up his world. And he wondered why. The little green blob at his core: strangled, choked and twisted, Relaxed for a moment, And felt joy, For now it could feel. The soldier went back to the others, He marched with them, But now he wondered why? It was so much easier to walk. He asked the officers, They told him he was stupid not to know something so obvious. The soldier stoped laughing at the others, Who were different, Because he did not want to make any new soldiers. He was demoted to sergeant. But he didn't care. The others stoped being afraid of him, And laughed at him instead. But now when they laughed, He was different. The soldier had worked hard, And learnt what they thought life was, And what they needed to do to move up in rank. He did not hide from the laughter, Despite still dreading it, But attacked it, For he had a gun. He attacked it for being weak, And boring, And stupid, And meaningless, And a lie. And the others ran away, Because they were afraid. But they were not afraid of the truth, As he had been. For they knew what was normal had to be right, And their little green blobs were dead. They were afraid that if they lost the battle. They would look like poor soldiers, And not move up in rank. So they ran. The officers came and saw that the green hearted soldier was not trying to move up in rank, They demanded that he should. He told them that it was meaningless, And was not his purpose, And that he wanted to know what he was. But they told him he was insane, And after all they had done for him he owed it to them to try to move up in rank. And he felt a sense of obligation, As he had been trained to do. And he started trying to move up in rank. He told himself it was important to become an officer, And then to find the truth afterwards. But he knew it was a lie. The sergeant saw the not yet knowing little green blobs. He saw that they were pure, Uncorrupted by the lies, Unafraid of being different. And he knew that that was what he was. Or had been once. Though when he was he could not see that he was, Or hear that he was. So he had not known that he was, And did not understand how he could be again, Or if he should be, Or what it meant to be. Somewhere inside him, Beneath the lies and indoctrination, A little green blob just was. And the shiny green soldier tried to let go of the lies. And the shiny green soldier tried to stop seeing with the eyes of a soldier. And the shiny green soldier tried to stop hearing with the ears of a soldier. And the shiny green blob tried to stop being a soldier. But failed. The shiny green blob stood up, For now it had feet. It started to walk away from the kind white, and soft brown. It started to walk away from the comforting voice of god. It started to walk away from the reassuring pedestal. To walk into the buffeting winds of laughter. To walk into the cruel lands of solitude. To walk to where it could stop seeing and hearing and just be. But the soldiers all grabbed at it, For they had hands, And pulled it towards where it was safe. And the shiny green soldier was afraid to let go of what it had always known. And to walk against what all the others though was right. And to go where it might fail and die, And where it was uncertain. He was weak, And he was sane. So he paves his road of words, In the hope that a soldier who has deserted, Might follow it from the unknown outside, And tell him why.
Reason for writing:
Inspired by Anarchism is not Enough
A 1920's book stumbled on by accident
Birth sign: Not entered
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