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An Ignorance
May. 14th, 2025 03:09 pmWe (Homo sapiens) have been moving away from nature since we left subsistence farming for industry. Faster and faster our gears have turned us toward a sterile fantasy rife with exploitation and ignorance. This year, 2025 CE, is no exception and feels like one of those sudden steep descents, a building thunderhead breaking open, a microburst of malice and stupidity. The human world is not the natural world, as I had once convinced myself. It is something anti-nature, and we are inextricably enmeshed within it--even this communication is party to the decay, made on a device that probably should not exist. Today I am stretched to the breaking point by human beings "just doing their job" in robotic, heartless fashion. They are not thinking, certainly not feeling, and altogether they don't even care to operate the accursed system well.
I walked today, out under the sky, in the humid May air. I walked to make my heart beat, to take my senses away from [this] and give them something green and passively beautiful to encounter. I saw a small bird on the road, stunned or dead, but did not slow down to check for a pulse. That bothers me--that is not me. I should have paused and crouched, looked for a sign of life. If it was alive, I should have moved it off the road, to give a chance at survival or at least a peaceful end. Who am I now, so distracted and intent on my walk that I could not even pay the respectful mortuary honor to such a little thing? Who are we as a species, so inured to the injustices and agonies that we don't stop to scream the sky down, to light a fire against the monsters, to act?
I walked today, out under the sky, in the humid May air. I walked to make my heart beat, to take my senses away from [this] and give them something green and passively beautiful to encounter. I saw a small bird on the road, stunned or dead, but did not slow down to check for a pulse. That bothers me--that is not me. I should have paused and crouched, looked for a sign of life. If it was alive, I should have moved it off the road, to give a chance at survival or at least a peaceful end. Who am I now, so distracted and intent on my walk that I could not even pay the respectful mortuary honor to such a little thing? Who are we as a species, so inured to the injustices and agonies that we don't stop to scream the sky down, to light a fire against the monsters, to act?