Shut up buttercup and lay in the grass
We’ll watch the Jays fly past
his blue feathers not so covert
the king of the oaks
Watch him fly
and gleam all that he knows
His dinosaurian voice
And moustachioed wisdom
calling to us
the harshness of reality
as we lay back on fields of yellow
soft beneath our skin
yielding to our unrelenting bodies
in this monstrous
yet wondrous world
The human is a contortionist
Bending and folding into boxes
Dissecting the world into words
Trying to communicate to…
Who? no one really knows
We just do it because we do
And in our prisms
With ink spilled
With erroneous conclusions to come to
we share a shared unknowledge that we are not who we are
but some other
Becoming restless
We all conclude
We should go ‘back’
Whatever that means
As if we left somewhere
When we get back to nature
It is said
We will understand
To which I must ask
When do you claim we left
That to which we are intrinsically attached?
It’s the words we use that built these walls
Language, a microscope to help communicate
About the world
But we forgot to step back from the scope
And see we are within
all the things we point to ‘out there.’
Through reading the book I was recently reading and mentioned in a previous post, I’ve also started to come across other authors/people who see themselves as ‘recovering environmentalists.’
What that appears to mean is that they’ve seen the cracks in the environmentalist movement and seen that the flaws in it are too big to continue on that road.
A lot of the flaws they point out, I have long felt uneasy about myself.
For example, there is a tendency to talk about technology as something that can become our saviour.
The idea is that we can use technology for positive purposes, we can make more ‘environmentally friendly’ technology etc.
‘recovering environmentalists’ see this as a kind of like another religion.
Instead of believing in heaven or some superior being saving us from ourselves, believing that technology can save us instead.
The idea that technology can save us has always created mixed feelings for me.
On the one hand I really, really, emotionally, want to believe it to be true.
But on the other hand, a less emotionally driven part of me can see the massive flaw in the idea.
How exactly do people expect we can utilise technology in a sustainable way when the very things that create those technologies are part of the problem? Not to mention the energy that is then needed to keep that technology up and running.
The world is a closed-off system. We can only utilise what the world has within it.
We end up ‘utilising’ more than our fair share.
Environmentalists often also suffer from the human, nature separation delusion.
We as humans can save the planet, somehow. According to them.
The language used helps the illusion of separation from nature.
As pointed out on a site I found the other day, the very fact we have the word ‘nature’ shows the delusion that nature is something separate from us. Scroll to II THE SEVERED HAND
The sentence “lets get back to nature” is the epitome of that delusion.
It’s pretty clear why emotionally I would want to side with the environmentalists and believe that technology could save us.
How could it not be wrought with emotion?
As I’ve pointed out previously I’m alive from that technology.
But as someone else in a comment section of a youtube video pointed out so is most of the western world now.
But I can’t help feel I rely on it more. Surgery, powerchairs…
Some ‘recovering environmentalists’ have the ability to live a life that shows their recognition of what modern technology is doing.
And some say that is the only way to go because even though not many people are currently following their trend, there will be a catalyst that is coming and we will see a massive change.
Maybe I’ll be long dead before that moment.
But I can’t help feeling like it’s just another thing that will inevitably leave me behind.
Because while we can’t possibly remain sustainable using technology the way we do, and future depictions in science fiction of further advanced gizmos and gadgets or how we save ourselves by utilising resources on other planets are science fiction and probably always will be…. Where does that leave people like me?
This is one of those unanswered question.
Because the answer is dark and no one wants to acknowledge it.
Zephry will conform herself around you
Whispering the worlds indifference.
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Arms open wide
Feeling the air of resistance
Hearing the worlds whispers, I listen
Trying to understand existence
But she won’t tell me her secrets
The world and I no longer in allegiance
Feeling far away
Trying to rise again
Like a phoenix from the flames
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Hush these voices
Writing my days
Into years
Worry will etch lines on my face
As storms have prospered
And marked the earth
I need an ear that listens
But does not judge
As I erode and try to simply breathe
Dull this pain
And let my spirit soar
Before I become one with the dirt.
Sit and listen to
The sound of the pitter patter
That abounds
Like constant white noise
Asserting no significant attention
Just the buzz of human relations
Like the wings of a bee
Humming the language of nations
Industrious working of this socialisation
Working its way through the psyche
Of many generations
While clowns look to the clouds
With wisdom in their jest
And hearts of lions pounding in their chest
Perhaps detained
But noticing every freedom
Has it’s own cage
And seeing that maybe
As caged birds flaps their wings
Can a man surely dare to dream?
I sat outside till the midges started to bite. I just sat.
Do you know what it feels like to feel like your drowning on air?
I rely on others to care about me, in a world that doesn’t care.
So I sat. And I tried not to think I’m an idiot. But I did, I slapped my forehead and said “you’re a fucking idiot” and I think the cat across the road might agree. I considered just staying there, sleeping on the bench.
I walked out the other night to distract myself from the S word. I’m restless. It was about 11:00 pm. I prefer being outside at night, i oddly feel safer. A guy walked down the road just before you turn to the block of flats, and I don’t know what was up with him but….it explained why it was a windless night. Because he seemed to have to all the wind coming out of his arse. He was farting really loudly as he walked along, hell they sounded like he possibly followed through. I don’t think he noticed someone was actually outside at that time to witness it….
It hurts when you realise you’re alone in this world.
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