No one is born a good citizen.
My essay is neither terribly deep, nor is it well organized. However, it is finished.
Show me a man who is an island in and of himself, and I will show you a man blinded by his own ineptitude. It is all too apparent that in this age hallmarked by the cell phone and the personal computer, humanity has lost the ability to communicate. Silent words now fall upon deaf ears. This failure is perceived, but nevertheless not acted upon. For that would require us to do, rather than say. So we survive within a tarnished vision of ease and contentment, a shadowy portrayal of the society we ought to be.
We lie upon the brink of cataclysm, and tonight is the eve of change. This is a turning point for humanity, for never before has the world been so entwined upon itself. It is a precarious position, to sit upon the banks of ruin and peer into its murky depths; one that none wish to see, yet all now are forced to take. Today is an age where humanity itself is poised to fall, should that be the fate of one great and ill-damnable nation. That is not to say that such a ruin is avoidable, for it certainly is not. The question is no longer whether, but when and how. The United States has bloated itself upon those either too weak or too broken to resist, and now none stand to challenge the assiduous beast. Just as an athlete who upon defeating the world, falls back onto his bed to gorge upon his plunder, the U.S is a festering malignancy, no longer a champion of justice or a herald of freedom. In time, it too will grow stale and consume itself, to the misplaced delight of countless cynics. And in the wake of such fall, global economy will collapse, for such is the peril of ultimate connectivity. It is ironic that society boasts of complete global networking, yet we are no better at communication than we were in the Stone Age. With such interconnectivity, the limited is made boundless, and the impossible drawn close. Yet none such fruits come to pass; we posses the means, but lack the spur. We are stricken by a world content to wallow in its own meager futility, biding its time until its own untimely death comes to pass. Even before the tongue of reason has failed, we draw close together in anger and sword. War is the conclusion that comes before reasoning. Such is little consequence however, for as humanity, we have chosen to turn a closed eye upon all that is unpleasing. And so what is seen is appealing; truly, ‘the duller the eye, the more extensive the good.’ This laissez-faire attitude of the common man, of the uneducated man, inevitably leads down a dark and forsaken path. And some may call it supreme justice that those who turn a deaf eye upon the road of truthful ugliness, are damned to walk down it. We now lie upon a time where our very words fail us, where blind indifference reigns supreme, and we are sitting upon an infinite chasm, perilously looking in.
Our vision is failure. The masque of humanity is but a broken visage of a fading dream. To any who look, undeniably there is something greater beyond. All of humanity is entitled to happiness. But before that, we must demand freedom. Such desire lies at the root of the unraveled soul. It is the beating heart that drives the blood of the dejected. It is the fire ridding beds of the forlorn and tenements of the forsaken. More than this, however, the call to be free is innate to humankind, no less a part of the body than the eye or the lung. Not until the very least of society are broken free from their shackles, can humanity in its entirety be free from the obtuse stone dragging behind it. No man can claim without self-damning apathy that he is free, whilst another raises his chained hands in entreaty. To transcend cynical fidelity and seek solitude in idealism is to see a vision of humanity where none are left without freedom. However, while free, such a world would not be liberated of conflict, for contention is human by necessity. And ultimate freedom begets such. By giving all the freedom to hold their own opinions, you give all the freedom to hold differing opinions. Nevertheless, conflict is by nature neither good nor ill. For just as easily as it beckons destruction, it breeds innovation in thought and rational. That which is not killed, grows stronger. And that which is not challenged, festers and dies. The golden vision of humanity is not one where there exists no dispute of ideals, but one where effective communication extends between these dipoles. Perfection is a society ingrained to take up the pen before skewering itself upon the sword.
Humanity is in an arms race to nowhere. It is gilded by its own mortality, condemned to race about an empty circle, content in such futility. We acknowledge that a grand, poetic vision of society exists, yet we continue to dogmatically pursue our own dismal ends. There is great disparity between realizing the ideal, and consecrating it into practice. To possess knowledge does little good if it is simply left to rot. Those with eyes who see, and yet do nothing, are no greater than those who are blind. Humanity thus, is consumed by its own ever-nearing demise. Pandering to what the self can do for the self perpetuates this desolate blindness. Until we can look beyond our own hollow shells, darkness will continue to fall, and what ought to be will forever remain a broken dream of shaded reality. The weight indifference must be thrown aside, and a mantle to arms taken in place. In doing so, the easiest road will be forsaken, and once barren paths will spring to life. A vision of freedom has already been sown; all that remains is to reap the fruit. For humanity to press forward, individuals must remain idle no longer. They must no longer turn a blind cheek upon oppression and tyranny in hopes of preserving the false image of content. Issues none want to discuss must be pressed to the forefront of conversation, and knowledge once swept under the rug must be brought to light. It is far better to see and look upon ugliness, than to draw a blindfold around your heart. For blindfold or no, ugliness still reigns.
Ultimately, we are fickle people. We denounce those who stand beside us for their ignorance, chastising them for their lack of understanding of the human condition, and yet, we do nothing ourselves. For every step we strive forward, we also take one back. We see what ought to be, and are content in the poverty of what is. It then must be said that we have a fear of change, a fear of disrupting the careful mechanics of security we have cloistered ourselves within. But alas, such efforts are futile; change has brought itself upon us. Humanity has been thrust out onto a great chasm, and we must now question where it is that we will land.