Naturalistic Rant
This is something I composed while sitting in my backyard outside in 100 degree heat (in the shade). I was in a very natural kind of mood, so here is the excerpt from my rant:
There are millions/billions of things going on in a small patch of grass, but we are so concerned with ourselves we never take the time to explore. I feel more at peace when I am away from physical, man-made constructs. In a way, I feel home. Pulling weeds is insane. Weeds are one of the most adaptive plants out there, as it can grow with hardly any nourishment. Why is it we are compelled to destroy that which we believe is undesirable? Without human beings, the world would be covered in these “weeds,” as we call them. I don’t even think the weeds know they are undesirable. So they are most likely shocked when we pull them, a sort of, “Who the hell do you think you are, taking my life with absolutely no justification for doing so, other than the fact you do not find me ascetically pleasing?” Imagine if we did that with our children. All ugly children get killed and are thrown away. And who are we as a species to make the judgment as to what stays and what goes? Who the hell do we think we are?
I am so sick of the constant “sounds of society.” The air conditioner humming, the car engine guzzling, the artificial radiative background noise of the television, talking about whether or not some athlete broke some record. THE RING OF THE BLASTED TELEPHONE. I guess we feel if we distract ourselves enough from the things we’ve done, we will never have to face all these crimes against nature. And I know most of us mean well. We really do. But we’re so caught up in the culture with its incessant distractions and obligations. And it is almost impossible for us to break out of it.
I am glad I have at least some nature to look upon. We have some trees in the backyard, and just being there trying to listen over the car noises that dissipate the “natural effect,” it does something for me. You can never really “listen” anymore because of all this man-made noise. I just want to be one with the world, one with nature, but all this extra distraction-based ingenuity makes it so difficult. It’s over 100 degrees outside as I sit and write in the shade. I am but a few feet from my air conditioned house, my Internet connection, and the so-called security we all long for. But now all I feel I need to do is sit here for awhile and collect the rest of my thoughts.
P.S. I probably lost six pounds in water weight just sitting here. I think right now the goal is to get one of those PARABOLIC sweat stains on my shirt. Wish me luck.
P.P.S. I am probably going to freeze to death when I go back into the AC-heavy house.
P.P.P.S. Writing on paper takes up way more space than typing on the computer. These paragraphs looked much bulkier outside. I’d blame the heat exhaustion.