The infinite blue sky

I can see it from my window on a good day. The infinite blue sky that envelops the entire world, far above the heads of every single person alive, every person that has ever been alive and every person that will be. We all look up to it’s glory, you, I and them. The rich, the poor, the victims and the thieves, we all stand on the rocky surface far below the same sky.
The sky is everybody’s, but the dirt below, that’s a different story. They snatch and they grab, they push and pull, partitioning it, drawing lines in the sand. What God gave to us they claim as their own, stealing from the creator himself. They chop, dig and build, driving God from his own domain and declare themselves Kings, Kings of Theives.
We all join them in their Godless constructs. Busying ourselves in their cities, toiling our entire lives to claim back a tiny patch of dirt to call our own. We enslave ourselves to the worthless numbers they have invented. We spend our days in servitude to try and lessen the number that was put against us when we were assigned our strip of land. A huge number. A number that grows whilst we rest and only shrinks whilst we labour. Labour for others whilst others labour for us, reassigning numbers a hundredfold rather than exchange goods or services hand to hand, person to person.
But what can we do? We gather ourselves where no food grows, the only animals under the infinite blue sky that do so. How the birds and beasts must laugh at us. Even the seeds of life themselves have been claimed, patented and greedily guarded. So we swarm through the streets of these barren cities to earn these numbers that allow us to eat and live. So totally engrossed are we that we measure one another in these numbers too. We quote people’s net worth in figures that hold no real value.
Despite all this we look up to the sky and call ourselves free. As long as we look to the sky we see our freedom, it is in the land that our bondage lies. No-one can claim the infinite blue sky, we can not be denied it. Even I can claim my view of the sky from my cell window. I am as free as you though I am hidden behind high walls. Maybe more free as I am here for rejecting the bondage of the Kings of Thieves. In the search of freedom I lost what little I had. The Kings of Theives did not like the truths that I wrote, they did not appreciate the light I shone upon them. The truth, you see, corrodes the chains that bind us all and for writing these truths I was punished. I was hidden away so my corrosive words may not weaken your chains. I am in good company though, these walls hold many journalists, writers, activists and free thinkers who sought to light a torch so you may find your way to freedom. Although we all now live in this darkness our torches still shine. Follow them.

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Chris Kouzaris

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