Just burry me in Africa

I look around me. Every thing is just too busy… coming to and fro, forgetting all about the basics of life, love, work, and live. I watch my world falling off the lap of luxury. I hold my breathe waiting for it to shatter on the ground. Watching my world teeter on the edge, my eyes threatening to pop from my head. My world is so much bigger than I. Daring not to try and grab it I am forced to watch helpless. Slipping further down, it settles on the rim. I venture a quiet breath. Will it stay? Do I want to live in a world tilted to one side?

I look up, across the room. I see another world. Despite the violence and disease, looking past all the death, I see a different life, a quiet life fighting to survive in a world of modernization. Seemingly a little speck, inconsequential, yet at the same time infinitely important. With pressure from all sides it begins to bend, “No, Stop!” I hear myself scream. Does it obey my voice or simply resist of its own free will?
Simplicity is dying, I don’t want to watch, but it will soon be gone. If I ever want to see it again I must find a way to save the day. Such an awesome responsibility for one so young.

This story is just an attempt to hold to the light my own soul, so that I might examine it. In order that I might know the way I am to go.

My course has already been plotted out. I know where I think I’m going but I’m not so sure.