No human being converses with solitude. Even when alone he will always be accompanied by the words of his past. Voices silenced in the world but within his mind condemned to last. They remind him of who he was, what he stood for and what he said. He reminds them of who he is, what he stands for and what he says. A dialogue interrupted only by the sole arbiter of what lies ahead. An inscrutable judge called the future, before whom we must all take a stand.
Lately the voices of silence have been echoing in my head. They remind me of a different time and a different world, one that never came to pass. Based on a concept of social justice that now seems so increasingly futile, and unbearably sad. Different boys working the same street corners, different girls working the same boulevards. New blood being spilled in the same cities, new tears raining down over the same crimes. A social order that vilifies merit, a political order smeared in grime. I have grown older only to see the country under an entirely new light. The darkness of the present has been revealed for what it is, anything but sublime.
The voices of the past command me to press ahead, always fight for what is true, never forget the words I said. But my soul has grown weary, there are only so many scars I can bear. Too many wounds have not healed, too many wars unleashed scares. Endless nightmares that wake up early, and rise from my bed, memories that pursue me, throughout the day that lies ahead. If you take away a man´s life, you take all he would ever be. But take away his faith in justice, and just as easily you kill his dreams. I have fought in too many wars, and all I long for is peace. Is this too much to ask? Is the price too extreme? Must the present bury the past and strive for a new dream? As I converse with the voices of silence, it remains to be seen.