All_Erased

Reconstruction
2009-03-05 22:06:38 (UTC)

Slippery Slope

Allow me to begin by sharing a memory I came across today. The following
imagery is not important as the sentiment beneath the theoretical
engagement. Nor is it based on fact. That being said, I do not expect
everyone to sympathize with the snapshot:

"It is a clear and sunny day. You cannot miss the golden light, the soft
vibrations from the sun, nor the vibrations of the sea, and the liveliness of
the surroundings. Yet, you are alone, alone beneath the looming structures of
mountain, their sides the only interactive features to plain sight. Sun glints
off gentle waves of a moving body of water nearby."

If it is not a genuine past experience, what makes it a memory?

The feelings are there. Old feelings. Emotional attachment frequently renders
this picture as an ends to the sentimental engagement, often times confused
and taken for reality.

It is exactly this sort of abstraction that reinforces my instability within
society, my society, my immediate grounds of civilization.

I am not happy.

Spring has been teasing us by revealing glimpses of itself. Free sneak
previews of what's to come. My thoughts have already been set on California,
days long past of sky blue days, green verdure, color, and the beach. How I
long to run down the sandy coast. Run, run, run - with the sound of the sea
and wind, entwined in my ears. As much as I appreciate the novel experience
of snow and cold, cold winters, it simply is not for me.

And you know what else is not for me? This life. The current reality. All these
years and I still cannot figure out where I fit. I don't know what to make of my
future, what to expect, or what to strive for. I thought I knew who I was
becoming, but the process went haywire, and it still eludes me who I truly am
inside.

Monsters emerge. Monsters subside. Guilt overrides me. Focus runs away
with the time. Control is no longer on my side. Surviving in this world
requires an outside fulfillment, adopting another's expectation of success.
Billions subscribe to the practice, but is it happiness? Will it ever lead to
happiness? Beyond the pressures of the global giants' ideology, what is my
heart saying?

Civilization is a dirty affair.

Most of the time I am a loving person. Most of the time this is true because,
no matter whatever else is happening in the world, or how far I fall off
balance, I always return to this state. I return to the state of love. I could care
less who YOU are, where YOU came from, or how YOU felt about me,
whether or not YOU were aware I even existed. Everyone is a beneficiary of
my best hopes, wishes, and tenderness.

Sometimes, and there are many times, I lose faith in humanity and could care
less. In fact, in these instances, I come in favor of the world ending, global
warming, because I feel that the Earth should be purged, even if that means
that I should die as well. I am also human, after all.

I do not want to be arrogant, or be associated with the arrogance of my kin.
The arrogance of expectation and assumption. Every day I grow more and
more tired of hearing that my country knows what is best for everyone else.
Who are we to decide for our neighbor what better suits his or her needs?
Who are we to decide exactly what the environment needs? Who are we to
define life for others? I claim to know nothing.

As an adult, I no longer have the full effect of a child's imagination. Although
in the eyes of my society, I am much growing up to do. Perhaps you would
agree. Under my obligations in this wold, I have no choice but to agree.
Except I hate turning a sad eye to the sight of landscapes ravaged by
(sometimes) invisible erosions, fearing their a decrease in crop yield; the
sight of waters filled with pollution, aware of the harmful impacts done upon
wildlife and people like me that decide to go for a swim, or a simple drink of
water. I hate knowing that population is a bad thing. I used to dream of a
world where everyone, and everything could coexist peacefully, whatever the
figures.

Ignorance is a bad thing, I know. Personally I prefer awareness, however
painful. But that is just it. It is painful, and disheartening.

Nostalgia overtakes me from behind. I recall sentiments of a different order.
Sentiments I recognize, yet cannot understand their symbology. What of the
mountainside, the sun, and the waters? I only understand it as being true.
True. The truest manifestation of what I yearn. Imagery aside, what is it?

I conclude my emotional slippery slope.


Ad:0