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Into the wild blue yonder?
No.
The mules with no rules continue to ignore the by ways, by laws and boundaries. Broken morality the only vice leading their way.
The only answer worth its weight in salt.
Is.
No.
There is more than one way to skin a cat.
There is more than one way to stop the madness.
There is more to moving the goal post, than thinking you can,
Move the goal post.
On a whim.
Your whim.
His whim.
Her whim.
In the most desperate of times, sometimes good and evil walk hand in hand. Across boundaries and borders in hope of a better life.
Traffickers and smugglers work hand in hand. Across terrain with no pain, no gain. But It continues. To be allowed. Allowed. And Illegal.
”The purposeful movement across a border in contravention to the relevant legal frameworks. There are various motivations to smuggling. Very often smuggling is synonymous with illegal trade. While the two have nearly identical objectives, namely the evasion of taxes and the importation of contraband items, their demand and close functions are altogether different analytical framework. (wk)
Wait a second.
So. This activity is allowed, there is a tax “benefit” and the promise of the buzz of a lifetime for a lifetime? Or a life. Sounds rather sketchy to me. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Who will lead the way out of the impossible impossibilities of a vulnerable person who makes a fatal decision to trust the pipe dream of another. And wade in. The fatal decision to enter the swamp and drug infested waters of lack of solid safety in leadership
The mules with no rules hope. Hoping upon hope they are on their way to what has been a promised land of opportunity? Of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness? Offerings of: White collar. Blue collar. Wristband. Ankle bracelet. Is this any way to welcome a visitor? To sell a pipe dream of death?
Who is running this show? The welcoming of persons who should not be here? This smuggling of persons, places and things is inferred to be as old as the Old Testament. (Kara’s, 2010:49) On the heels of the smuggling brought handmaidens, fraud and the like of followers. Oftentimes those in charge (whoever they may be)condoned the practice to be economically advantaged.
Hey. What would you do for a few measly dollars.
Sell your soul?
Sell someone elses’s soul.
May God have mercy on your soul.
Best beware, if you choose to ease into the swampy waters.
God knows our hearts
Whoever, or wherever control the ports, controls life? Of the transit of the goods. And in some cases, life. The goal to achieve wealth and material comfort. At the expense of the law. Emigration from a place to another place. Countries often seek to regulate this activity for a variety of reasons. Stopping criminals from leaving, labor shortages, and the brain drain. (wk)
Over time, the invasion of the mules with no rules had made its way quietly to the neighborhoods Permeating and threatening at the same time. They set up camp. Out with the old, in with the new.
What my naive self did not know, was they had already been.
The mules who don’t follow the rules had already made it to my small, sleepy home town. They had been there and planted swap-like insidiousness far and wide.
I did not know what hit me. Life was forever changed. Not just for me. For people I know. People I love. It seems impossible—to fight something you cannot see. But you can fight something you touch with your own two hands sometimes. You simply need the best allies the best fighting partners.
No one likes to get their hands dirty. But sometimes throwing our hands up to deflect the meanness is the only appropriate way to survive.
Drugs.
Brought by the mules with no rules.
Permeate and are everywhere.
Everywhere.
The cost of their price is far too high. And. I am not just talking about inflationary measures of their arrival onto our soil. The desperate and insidious ways they can change the course of a life.
The personal toll they take is and can be deadly.
The fight against their presence seems futile.
But it is not futile
And worth every minute of every drug-infested fight.
When my turn came, to experience the mules with no rules wrath, I came to a few needed and necessary life altering realizations.
Never say never.
Sticking up for a another person is the only way to go.
Sometimes we figure it out as we go along.
The pain of loss never really leaves us.
Loss comes in many ways, shapes and forms.
Drugs are and can be the path filled methods to the madness.
Enticing they are, and it can be we never touched a drop or lick of them ourselves. Nonetheless, they kill. The mules with no rules. The contraband, confusion and consolation they carry with them crossing over into what they think is a better life in the land of opportunity.
And the price is high.
Too high.
Drugs kill adults.
Drugs kill kids.
Drugs kill families.
Drug kill dreams.
Drugs alter consciousness.
In a way that eventually becomes,
Acceptable.
Acceptable?
Yes. That is the only word I can think of to describe a desperate person in a desperate situation. Humans will do just about anything to survive. Perhaps it is in our blood.
When my turn came, to experience the wrath of just how insidious the infiltration had become. It changed my life. My hopes. My dreams. Crazed moments of fear and abandonment are the sentiments and feelings I often awake to now.
Holding a person hostage to make a deal can do that to a person. Cause a condition of life long craziness because they chose to not play the game “their way”.
No.
You do not get to skip off into the sunset, into the wild blue yonder.
Take your mules with no rules and redirect your efforts away from those I hold near and dear.
As long as there is breath in my body, I will continue to fight the good fight. To keep you away, defend you to stay away from the enticement of your lack of rules and by laws, borders and boundaries.
Although you never did ask properly, I fight for you, too.
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