The pen continues on the walls of my mind when no pad can be found. My thoughts, constructed as if they were to be explained to someone else but kept secret within my walls.
This is where I am dangerous, this is where I will fight my fight. I am not one to use guns or knives, to inflict terror on my countrymen and the world to prove my point correct.
I know I am wrong just like everyone else, but within me is love. I would rather be wrong with love in my heart than wrong and harbor a hatred I cannot control.
Yet, for centuries men with words have been labeled criminals. The crime of thought that differs from the norm, or to question the authority of the time. They call it “causing trouble” “inciting violence” and “hurting the future”, yet they point weapons in preparation of our anger. They point their death at our hearts, where they believe an evil lies they must stamp out.
They paint themselves in red, white and blue while pushing the narratives that lead us to fascism. They push thoughts from screens and speakers into the ears of people too busy to weigh the options.
They claim someone across the world threatens our freedom to be complacent, to have others think for us. They blame the inhabitants of the most war torn place on earth for death and destruction that has been rained down upon them.
How can you not be radical if all you and your ancestors have known is oppression? How can you not harbor a resentment toward a “religion of peace” that tells its followers war is justified if we wipe these radicals off the face of the planet.
I have a relationship with my creator, and I believe myself to follow the path Jesus set before us. Love your neighbor, treat them how you want to be treated, be willing to sacrifice for the greater good. Yet when I hear Christianity used for these ends of death and destruction I can’t help but feel like I understand the radical and non-radical differentiation more, and how people will say they want to erase the radical but are unable to separate the cleansing from the non-radical.