Our Monster

Society doesn't have an excuse. It builds monster after monster, following the mold of monsters past. It never seems to learn that monsters come back to haunt. Society does not understand that it must learn from its mistakes. Nor does it have the desire to go against the will of the monster. Like Dr. Frankenstein's monster demanded a female monster, a sequel to its horror, history also demands repetition. War after war, our society continuously falls into the monster's trap. The words on the page teach us nothing. Historians pour over the pages of history books. Their meaning seem to allude them.

Cemetery after cemetery filled with the bodies of the victims of these monsters. And yet we continue to build them. With our words and our actions, the fault does not fall fully on leaders of nations. These monsters are created by the structure of society. We are all at fault, we are all evil scientists of sorts. The very fact that we are human makes us responsible. We take part in the death of soldiers and innocents killed in wars, just as much as the world leaders. Their blood is on our hands. We take part in the problems of our society. We have created the monsters!

When will we learn not to create these monsters?

When will we learn peace is better than war?

My Monster

Mary Shelley had her Frankenstein, Shelly Jackson her Patchwork Girl and R. M Berry his Frank, Me I have my own monster. It shows its face within my thoughts and dreams, as long as I don't speak its name I keep it caged. But once I put it into words, I lose all control. A monster is released, and is searching for revenge. I long to grab the eraser but the words are already out of control. Shifting, changing, forming.......... No longer mine. The monster grabs a knife and kills its creator. It claims its own life. My meaning is gone, lost in a swirling mass of letters, yet I cannot stop. It begs me to continue to make more like it. Like Mary Shelley's monster its begging to have someone like it to share its life with. Even as I type this I am creating a new monster, building something with merely my thoughts put into words. Language takes over and my meaning becomes obscured, lost in translation.

And still I write......................