m&ms487

I was sitting in the middle of Zach's field watching him and Rueben build their earth bag structure and watching the sun, shrouded in clouds like holy cloths, sink slowly behind a grove of trees and down into the horizon...and the clouds that were in the sky above me were very tall and large and loomed bright and purple and pink, slowly drifting to the west...and I sat there in thought, the clink of shovels filling bags with earth as my background music, my medium of meditation, while I braided grass that I collected from around me...the conclusion came suddenly of the selfishness of it all. We live for each other. Humanity is too wrapped up in itself, and that's where all the problems come from. Too involved, too lost in self absorbtion to get even a glimpse of the real, big picture...and it was just me wedged between the earth and the sky, the clouds pressing down on me as the light diminished to shine in another place. What does it matter? It's all too big. We live as if it matters what we do. It might, for a moment...but not for long.

I spend my days in a large building with no windows. Eventually, the field that was raped to put that building there, will destroy it. The grass and trees, and the little insects we sell repelents to destroy will consume it. It will take years, but what does that matter? The earth has years.

And then, when it's gone, what will it matter that I spent my days locked inside that building, wrapped up in the price adjustments, and money transfers, and the selling of overpriced synthetic food items?

I should have spent them else where, doing something else. But alas, I'm wrapped up tightly in it, playing by all the rules, doing what is expected, what is supposedly right.

And even if it's right, or wrong, or indifferent, what will it matter?

And it's hard to live with these kinds of questions in my head. It's hard to wake up in the morning with no purpose, with up becomind down and down turning up. Confusion is the name of the game. I don't know if I have a purpose. I know it's not to do the bidding of some guy up in the sky.

But somehow, I have this, this seemingly eternal hope. Hope for what? I have no idea. But it keeps me going when it seems like there is no purpose, no reason for it all. I suppose it's just some animal instinct that's buried deep in my subconscious, the message in the DNA to keep going, to procreate...

But we've created such an elaborate game of it all. If the goal is to procreate, why don't we just do that? Why are there so many other factors involved? Byproducts of something of evolution. It seems that everything we've created is so unnatural...

Why can't we be like every other animal and fuck each other and then die?

1 ::watch me bleed:: | ::cut me open...::