An anguished loafer's vow (or, disorganised rant from a disillusioned fool)

How long have I been Idle?

I see so many pictures, photos, and images (moving and still);

read and ponder a Library of Babel's worth of words, text and writings;

listen to more songs, lectures, speeches, recordings and sounds than

even the most shrewd and time-ridden human can possibly keep in their mind;

eat, digest and taste foods and delicacies most people and indeed, other animals,

could ever hope or imagine to indulge in;

smell and sense perfumes and fragrances that a continent's worth of humans

may never breathe in more than once;

felt and worn enough clothing and fabric, cheap and fine,

to drown a small country of atlantean proportion.

And yet, here I write

with hands of circulation so poor

a shower in hot water has little effect-

that is how still and shuttered these hands have been

for how long now?

Every day, you learn about a person of great achievement in literature,

Arts, 

Sciences.

Even those more fleeting or contemporary of them

seem to multiply and multiply,

to gain more and more admiration and notoriety

by the week!

Must I be the only human being to solely consume?

I used to boast about my erudition on literary works

be it poets,

bards,

reformers,

philosophers,

I could write more if I so desired.

Ho! what good use I put to that!

Must I put my hands in eternal purgatory,

doomed to the fate of nothing but idle grabbing and groping?

How many others are like I,

constantly reading, eating, labouring, watching, listening, wearing, using

(in short, consuming)

without ever a sliver of thought of contributing

to this reciprocal world of creators and keepers?

Our wealth-greedy culture insists that we need not create nor conceive,

for our only purpose is to gain in green

and to do so, we must instead copy,

streamline,

monotonise,

monetise,

and if need be, overstimulate;

this is how we keep them in the mantra of 'take 

what we "give".'

Why must we keep falling for this horrid fallacy?

One cannot call claim to a gift

if it was never given to begin with!

One cannot 'give' even a blatant artifice

by leaving it out in the sun to dry!

And dare I put to mention

that it is an atrocity to 'give'

an artifice that one has rendered as

the only one open to suffice.

No longer shall I be sabotaged

by my own ignorance,

nor shackled by the desires of the wax-faced,

malnourished conglomerates,

for now and forevermore,

I shall set to the boulevard of defiance

and finally discover

what can lure my hands

out of their abyssal cave,

so that through them

I shall finally share my soul

to the very people who have gifted me

part of their own.

Look upon my works, ye heartful, and rejoice!