RECYCLE,REBIRTH and REPLENISH

Recycle,rebirth replenish, the three r,s a mantra, a pledge, the permanent revolution.

The Visionfiles we watched,for our education, showed that during those times ,most of humanity had lived , fuelled, by both waste and exploitation. The residue, we ,the survivors, harvest, every solar cycle , was also testament to this . The decadence in their lifestyles was difficult for us to comprehend. Future structuring , the very signature of civilisation, was conspicuous by its absence .They had access to recordings from the past , so only malfeasance, and conscious negligence could explain their actions. The subjects had more than one uniform. They had no utility features at all, they wasted their precious body fluids, only having the most primitive ways of checking their bodies chemicals, there was no way of immediately indicating distress or disease. How many crimes went unpunished, how many organs were wasted , lives cut short, by some antiquated notions of self. The revolution had cut these poison vines down, and daily we sifted through the soil of recycled fields, pulling out the roots , so no more could the clamour of an individual, drown out the sweet harmonies of the reborn collective. It was in those fields doing the task I was allocated,that led to my first real experience of anxiety.

Metals had always been precious , even in the times of waste , but now that everything was recycled, they were even more important. That is what gave the sifting of the former landfill sites such importance within the party hierarchy. Gold itself still being of paramount importance,because of the role it played in the electronic arts. The level that I served in was the most labour intensive, but could, with a clear chemistry record , and a diligent approach to the nuances of party policy, lead onwards to the regeneration levels. To be regenerated, to be deserving of the organs of party members, who had given their bodies for the sake of society, and the eternal leadership of the party, was the only aspiration that could ever be considered selfish. Yet , because it served both the nation and the party to maintain continuity, it defined much of what the revolution involved. A dialectical dicthomy, as one of his elder cadres had described it , before they gave their own body to the great recycling and regeneration. A smile came to me as I recalled his essential teachings, and his look as he gave himself to the invigilators, knowing he would live on , in many different forms. It was then ,that I saw it , glinting from the broken soil, in the heat of a midday sun. Never had I seen gold in such quantities before. It had a crude heart shape , similar to the first symbols we were shown in our regeneration classes. Yet there was a fine etching around the perimeter, and a fine woven chain hanging on , still hidden in the dirt. I slumped to my knees , conscious immediately that I wanted to hide this discovery. Looking sideways, there was no obvious looks from the invigilators, so I snatched it up , and surreptitiously hid it in my boot. I had no intention of keeping it , I was dedicated to the revolution, yet something had triggered an inner decadence I had failed to eradicate. It was the sweating that triggered my chemical response. Built within all of our outfits were the response mechanisms that gave a clear indication of illness, and any anxiety. The maintenance of health was paramount in being a responsible agent of regeneration, and anxiety would lead to stress, which in turn would lead to ill health. Often the cause was from forsaking the revolution, pursuing decadent dreams and thinking for oneself. Knowing that I had done wrong, I pulled the golden trinket from my footwear. I held it in my left hand , gazing at it. There was a clasp , holding two sides together, so I gently opened it ,my heart beating at the anticipation of what was inside. I blew the dirt away and gazed upon it. Nothing was within, it seemed to have no purpose. As I looked up , I saw the invigilators approaching. The badge on my garment was glowing. They would know that , even momentarily, I had forsaken my sacred duty. Would I be re educated, or fast tracked to a re generation centre? I smiled, knowing that , even though my mistake meant that I could never progress to a higher level, my organs would, eventually help in the eternal progress of the permanent revolution, to recycle, rebirth and replenish .