the dance of the ink riddled fingers

whistle blowers

Posted in epiphany tiffany, handfuls of ambition, heroes of mine by enisea on 26/07/2011

My sister told me about this story.  One story from the bucket of billions.  One story that got translated into an incredibly powerful, heartening cause of determined passion.  There’s something breathtaking about watching the capacity of a person extend incessantly when they realise the present horrors of another will be challenged and defeated by their refusal to surrender victims to said tragedy.  When one person wanders inadvertently into the tatters of the ‘almost-ruined’ and offers that little bit more hope, consequently (at least) doubling the previous scarsities of hope, endurance and perseverance for both parties!  This is what the heroes lived on, the adrenalin of knowing that I was rich enough to help those who were poor enough to die without being noticed.  The adrenalin of racing against brutes for the life of another; the audacity of staring down at hostility and inhumanity, whispering that as many as you will claim, you will not claim all – not as long as I can help it.  An unbeknownst soldering of hearts into a messy but sturdy unity of consistently throbbing love, hurt, healing, concern, passion and bravery.

These people attract me.  They make me want to be braver.  They bring me down to size.  They make me crave strength, selflessness, boldness and focused passion.  Those who blow the unpopular and unfavourable whistles of honesty, yet uncaring how many people pretend not to hear or tell them they have no right to tell people what they ought to do.  The voices unashamed, “Are you going to help or what? Oh yeah, it’ll cost you – it won’t even make you a ‘good person’, merely acknowledge your responsibility for humanity”.  Haha, because the restoration of humanity is more important than my self-gratification.

We can’t afford not to care, our apathy is more expensive than the cures for this world.  Raise awareness.  Start by finding a cause that works for the rehabilitation and restoration of humanity, chose one and stick to it.  Let it shove all your useless desires back at you and make you embarrassed for ever wanting something like that when for the same price you could save a life from a dark reality – God knows it’d probably save you from your own dark reality too.  I mean, it’d make you take a real honest look at life… a real, honest look at yourself wherein you’d realise we’re all doomed without some sort of perfect solution, to which we all swear, “Jesus Christ! It’s impossible”. 

Ah shoot. Life just got real.
Blow a whistle. Buy a whistle.

(Tax returns and a little extra jewelry money. Buy a pretty little whistle.  Everyone will think you’re cool. 
Or at least I will.)


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