Every so often I am reminded or it occurs to me like a flash of panicked realisation that we, as humans, swarm and throng this earth. There is a fleeting disgust at the infestation that physically moves me. We will never walk together so you will not see. Even if we did, a cursory distracting jibe would be leveled towards you.
The weight of understanding, philosophy and wonderment we, as a species, have created astounds and delights. We have grabbed this world by the scruff of the neck, shook loose its lunch monies and carved out a slice of magnificent habitation. Certainly, it is an affectation of the privileged to be able to postulate in the face of such inefficient building blocks.
At once, as I am overwhelmed by the destructive and all encompassing grazing to which I have become accustomed, I can be reminded of the extraordinary feast we provide our own senses.
We are the kings of the castle. We are also dirty rascals.
Everyone suffers from a crisis of identity or purpose as soon as there is a spare moment of contemplation. The very nature of the way I’m living allows for occasional losses of faith* followed by structured thought around solutions. I feel I am losing all my abilities that I thought I had as a kid.
Some people don’t understand. You once saw something which was new and exciting, you hadn’t thought about it before but imagine that, given a slightly different set of circumstances, you could have made that. The sight of this item, with its newness and reflection of your beliefs, caused you to search for more, to try and recapture this feeling. Sure there are other things out there, some are close, others fail to make an impact and every new thing you see seems to reduce the diversity of ideas originally happened upon.