Conscript for James Ballard Sutton by Philip Larkin

This is really a bad news. A piece of sad news.

When he just wants to stand by and get on with their lives, seeing keeping business as usual in this chaotic world as his/my duties here, he/I simply just can’t.

For those who want to blame us/him who stand in your way of your so-called revolution/war/battle or your time, not mine,

For those who want to blame us/him for just wanting to keep on going to work,

Please leave your heroism aside, a bit, a moment, and think about I/him, understand your rage. He/I co-operate with you guys, not because he/I feel your heroism/enthusiasm.

Far from it.

He/I co-operate, seeing ourselves suffer a bit (yeah. we do suffer because of you) without grudge, without even a moan, seeing this suffering as part of his/my duties here, as is keeping his/my business as usual in this chaotic world.

But to die, to leave his/my lives behind, as a sacrifice. It’s simply too much.

He/I suddenly feels that we have been conscripted. Out of our will. Out of our control. And He/I can’t even raise a voice. Or breath. Anymore.

Simply too much.

So I read this piece by Philip Larkin, to pay my condolence to his due. Rest in Peace, man.


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