Where Does a Soul Go?

Revolution of the self or revolution of society is the question ping-ponging around my head.

Do I become an introverted homeless Buddhist, wither away and die in peace or do I shoot everyone in site who pisses me off?

I keep imagining myself in a country where conscription is compulsory.

Do I do what the police and the army officers tell me, volunteering my body as a bullet proof jacket to the politicians and others, murdering others.

Do I appear limp and get thrown in a cell, raped by other prisoners?

Do I turn around and when the chance is hot, spray a thousand bullets over the army generals who are telling me what to do, labelled as a mad man psycho, alone to be eventually shot by one of the hundred thousand soldiers I didn't manage to shoot dead?

I keep imagining myself as an unemployed drop out being harassed by the job centre.

Do I ignore all their demands that I take up a soul sucking automated life in order for their cash?

Do I become a homeless wanderer, cold, wet, tired, hungry, shop lifting, dying?

Do I become the non-stop unit producing slave of some mercenary factory owner?

Do I spray the job centre and the owner with bullets only to be pulled in by the cops, demonised by the media which everyone buys and left to rot in a cell?

What becomes of a soul who perceives that everyone else around him/her is eager to stand on each other and him/herself in order to be top of the pile?

Where does the soul go?

Tristan Weavers