Mourning in the aerodrome. The weather warmer, he is colder. Four men in uniform to carry home my little soldier…What could he do? Should have been a father, but he never even made it to his twenties. What a waste, Army Dreamers. – Kate Bush
World war. Civil war. Turf war. Cold war. Race war. Drug war. Cyber war. Nuclear war. Proxy war. Religious war. Price war. Gang war. Chemical war. Range war. Cola war. Drone war…
Billions of fractured micropixels defragment into a lumbering mass of global identity crisis. Egos seek pride in the illusion of uniqueness. When Consciousness splinters, its wisdom-deprived constituents draw battle lines and engage in suicidal struggle.
If you cherish yourself, you are a warmonger indeed. With your self-hatred, you have tossed an explosives-laden boomerang into the air. If you acknowledge any other self than That which encompasses all, you march perpetually into battle.
War begins at home, in the place where you keep your mirror. The I asserts its independence, the amygdala electrifies, anger rises up and looks for a place to express itself. It seeks confirmation of its worth only to find that everyone is too busy confirming their own to acknowledge yours. In the fog of delusion, we fight for our survival.
In the light of reality, there is no one to fight. Om Tat Sat. When we awaken from the dream of self, doves will fill the sky. Illusion will disappear along with the sleep in our eyes. The peace of Unity is the endgame of wisdom and wisdom alone is immortal.
Lay down your arms, for the battle is internal. There is nothing to be vanquished but delusion.