‘You’re an idealist,’ he said. I could not deny it.
‘You just wont see the world’s a crock of shit,’
he said while I adjusted my glasses and replied,
‘I don’t believe our hopes and dreams have died.’
He snorted and said, ‘See that’s just what I mean.
You think we can change what always has been,
is and always will be the fate of all humankind,
the program is written in stone in every mind,
we’re built to fight, to kill, to rape and ravage
because, basically, we’ll always be plain savage.’
‘This is exactly why,’ I answered, ‘we’re trapped
by negative thoughts like these, they’ve sapped
our will to use our reason and analyse our actions
before we fracture into constantly warring factions.
If you retain the belief that we have the capacity
to lift ourselves out of this trough and have pity
on the sick, the ignorant, the helpless and the poor,
our situation could change from endless war
to one of peace and hope-filled resolution
and discover, at last, a truly positive solution
to all our troubles and our strife..’ I had to stop
he’d turned so red and looked about to pop.
‘I’ve never heard such idiotic twaddle,’ he said.
‘It’s all a matter of survival. Now, I’m off to bed.’
‘Fine, so we’ll agree to disagree?’ I asked of him.
‘No,’ he said. ‘Oh,’ I said, ‘you’re just so fucking dim.’