| In the clumsy suberban dwelling I find myself. Fumes churning from below cars, the noises of drilling emulates from one of the vacant streets. A postman delivers folded paper to peoples dwellings. Traffic lights flicker between their 3 possible colours and people in suits write reports. Poets dream, flowers blossem, people ignore them and walk past. I was born into it and I will die not understanding. This is humanity and it's shit. The world is such a facinating place. The smallest pocket of warmth in an desolate and barron universe. Seagulls, crashing waves, creepy things in logs are the bleached images that pulsate through my head. Glorious images sparked by this place. But humans are dark and selfish. Grey pipes churning out pollution, the rusty hollows of malfunctioning ironworks, corrosion, a horizon filled by a Morrisons supermarket - the influence of one species blotting out the design of the habitat. Look from where you are sitting. Remove the influence of this arrogant ape and peel back the distortion to our lush planet home. Streets, drains, shopping centers. The world was not meant to be like this. Sometimes I look at the sky, finding solice in that here the polution is hidden and the true earth shines through. It is so beautiful. The light bouncing of the tops of the clouds. Even on a stormy day I can still see beauty in the swirling shades of grey. Then I look down onto the shapeless matter that we created. Jagged rooftops and skyblocks. If I was to paint the sky it would be art. If I could capture it's essence my work would be acclaimed. But it's there, above us all the time and we never look up. We are consumed by our everyday lives and struggles. I would rather look at a lettuce leaf than a picasso. Open your eyes to the deadly cancer that is humanity. Cut it out. They say money is the root of all evil but this is not so. Humanity is the root, money is the water. The false water that we are all fighting for. Strangling the other plants, using ou9r thorns against each other when there is enough food for all. Some plants are born with deep deep roots that glide into an underwater resviour that they alone cannot posibly consume. For each one of these there's thousands of limp brown vegetation suffering in the desert above. Some people are drowed in wealth, many have to make our own way. Those with enough to live royally are fueled by greed. The vacant cry of a dead lioness, shot for it's skin and teeth. A rino carcass without a horn.Each of us driven by our own needs and not working towards a complete jungle. This is the world that we have made. One advanced monkey has done all this shit. Sometimes I think there is nothing left. But I must soldier on with my futile existance, plucking whatever moments of joy I can from my personal bramble bush. Small things on a world scale. A nice project here and there, odd pathetic night out etc. Drunkeness, dreaming about patching up the gaping hole that is lack of love. Weighted by the probability that nothing will change. old noticeboard |