A simple curse of damnation

[Wizard’s Editorial Note: Now, it wouldn’t be very much like me – nor would it be very much like this blog – to devolve into a death-spiral of the power of positive thinking. Thanksgiving is important – and should dominate this period of time, but if we leave unsaid gratitude’s opposite – those things we would stamp out, damn to hell, or even about which we cling in denial – we do ourselves a grave disservice. You do your own curses – if you really wanna go wild, write them on a piece of paper and burn them on a sacred rock in ritual sacrifice. Here’s mine – take it for a template if you want, or otherwise just get a good laugh out of it.]

I damn all loss of life encountered during this year – from actual deaths to lost friendships and fractured bonds, disappearing pets to even the sapping of vital energy never to return.

I damn all the ailments, maladies, and sicknesses that have befallen myself, my family, or any loved ones in my sphere.

I damn all the hopeless causes – not the causes themselves but the facts that render them hopeless.

I damn the fact that everything is slowly burning to the ground. I recognize that this destruction is a necessary part of a natural cycle of death and rebirth, I know that new life with be born of the ashes, but I damn the fate that circumstances have come to be so bad that we must wish for the burning to come as quickly as possible.

I damn the fact that our entire species, due mainly to an aberrant and immoral way of life, is as if riding a speeding super-fast commuter train straight toward the end of the tracks and over a cliff, and I damn the despair I feel as a result.

I damn my own inconsistencies, hypocrisies, failures, and weaknesses. I damn the fact that there often seem to be so many of them.

I damn the fact that so many of those I love the most are scattered in the wind across the far corners of the earth.

Though I would never damn a fight worth having, a fight that needs mounting, I damn those fights that were and are unnecessary and thrust upon me externally. I damn the fights I tried to avoid but could not. I damn the heavy shackles and bad blood left about my neck in their wake.

I damn all estrangement, all isolation, all severance, all separation between those who rightfully should be allied.

I damn the way most people vote. I damn most of the people for whom people have the option to vote.

I damn wage slavery. I damn exploitation. I damn capitalism.

I damn racist murder at the hands of the police.

I damn random wars in the Middle East. Or anywhere, really.

I damn the social pressure to donate small private funds to medical research that can – and should – actually be funded by public entities.

I damn any time I spent tired, anger-dazed, beaten down, or depressed instead of in joy, productive work, or family bonding. I damn the frailties I possess that cause me to falter in this manner.

And though I do not wish to live forever, I damn the tiny tragedies of mortality, damn mortality itself, damn the desperation inherent to honesty on this subject even for the best of us.

I damn uncertainty. I damn change. I damn sleep. I damn most biological processes.

Sometimes, I even damn the neutrality of the universe because I am selfish and would like it to take my side. I damn that selfishness, too.

I’d be remiss, of course, if I didn’t damn my enemies and damn all those who enable them.

I also, at the same time, damn my lack of forgiveness toward others.

I damn all that is gone that I wish to retain, and I damn time for being so damned strange and incomprehensible and relative.

I damn all of these things in public and ritual manner in hopes that, with 2014 in the past, we’ll have some degree less of these same things in the 2015 to come.

[Whew, that does feel better, doesn’t it?]

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