(Image from:http://images.nationalgeographic.com. All credit due)
Below writing prompt is more of reactive feeling towards time wasting, solely my feelings based on trying to survive from a daily level. Maybe melodramatic, but what Hitchcock said about melodrama rings true within the reality of ones life. Stay true, stay focused and guide your own path against the realms of fate.
Pandering to populism, on that spectrum from left to right, all meaningless in the scale of existence when survival is paramount. They whine is of frustration in it’s futility, born as peasants, given rise to an idealism through the exchange of a moment – that holds no value. To be sold, a gift, is all but a worthless token – you’ll be betrayed in the end. Not even ants will serve into the innate, unique characteristic, human folly as it unwinds. As I’ve said, power only to the ones that embrace survival, day to day, to live to see the next. To conquer time. As the days after may never come. Death will always have the final word. Yet again they talk, wasting time on it’s fear of both life and it’s demise. A cataclysm that will go with a whimper, maybe at the end you’ll will hear the echo of laughter as it all fades.