The Voice of the Gathering: Then and Now

by themapofantarctica

Drifters, migrants and non-citizens. We are united today, gathered together to form a voice, dissonant and unharmonious. We are hear to speak. To voice our opinions, beliefs and concerns. To let our sound carry through the air in bursts of joy and exhibition. We are gathered under no name. We are gathered under no guise. We are gathered under no principle and our voice is loud. We are the people who shall not be defined. We are the people who will not be coerced or shaped by cheap political premise. We are the people who will not be restricted by chains or wires, commerce or technology.

All exists to support us, for our intentions are neutral.

Wanderers, nomads, and gypsy’s. We are a disapora of meaning, a collation of thought, an embodiment of the disparate. We have consumed books of philosophical thought, listened to religious incantation, engaged in performances of artistic integrity. We have no aesthetic or uniform and we will come together despite this.

We have walked independently through fields and down roads. We have lived alone and in small groups. It has taken us time to realise, but when we did we acted. We are acting now. Forcing ourselves into view, demanding recognition and representation. They think they are running the country. They are not running the country. They cannot even see the country if they take the time to look from their windows. They see their reflections in the glass and groom themselves into gelled poses. We are filling the streets, we are talking in the parks, we are peaceful and motivated, mobile and amorphous. Growing by the day.

Nothing shall organise us.

Our bodies are dishevelled and our looks unkempt. We walk undirected. Some of us have science, some of us have god. Some of us have music and community. A travelling band of all specialisms. The circus is always leaving town.

Truants and deserters. Nameless itinerants bearing the burdens of tradition. We have families and we have come from neighbourhoods. We have travelled an unplanned pilgrimage in all directions, moving away from home to discover lands, fields, territories unfamiliar to us. To diversify. To understand. To evolve.

We have forged unions with those dissimilar to us. We have proven our adaptability, our willingness to accept, our love of difference. Some of us are enthralled by it. The traditions and upbringings of others. Their pasts, light with experiences distant to our own.

How can homogony exist in our world when the world is ours? When the world is still? When the faces of people are so disparate and their eyes are watching as all events unfold? We seek similarities, knowledge, togetherness. We seek change, representation and voice. We seek work and we seek stories. Both of which permit us. Bind us. Enable us.

Outsiders, immune to designation, we are ignorant of borders. We traverse to transgress. Move our bodies to move perceptions. Thought is in the steps we take. Together. Regardless of their direction. Like a dance at times, like a confusion at others.

Stop.

Look at the land. Look at the mountains. Look at the ocean.

Nothing shall organise us.

Vagabonds of the known world. Inhabitants of the unknown worlds. Come hence and be counted amongst us. For we are those of the gathering.

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