Life and/or Death

The World War One documentary fuses itself into an irreplaceable 50 minutes saved in my brain. The Germans, the Russians; regardless of nation, their intent of destruction is stomach wrenching. Words used in this documentary are Gothic in nature - far too primitive a syntax to be used as colloquial. Field of blackbirds, exhaustion, funeral procession, torture, poisoned gas, extermination, death rate, etc.....

The sounds of birds break the horror film's demeanor like a laugh in a slaughter house. These are human beings, tainted by biasness, enraged by presuppositinos.

I am sure that not all were racist ignorants. I imagine teenagers around these theatres of war angrily spitting upon their faulty governments and blinded predecessors. I imagine the revolutionaries, vainly suporting their non-support. Muted to their own destruction, for revolution changed everything but solves nothing. I imagine loving one who was drafted, and the hollow insides that would venture to collapse at every words of war.

War unwravels. War mends. War unintes.

It unintes the cowards. It unintes the brave. It unintes the blood-thirsty. It unintes the protectors. It unintes the gung ho. It unintes the anarchists.

Welcome to the most disgusting paradox life has to offer.