“I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells. Fantasy is anecessary ingredient in living.”-Doctor Sues. My imagination happens to extend to the idea that everyoneon earth can serve their purpose to eachother. However, who is it that decides how happy you become in reference tothese people we call our neighbors, oursisters, our brothers, our family? Peoplein my opinion pose a coy problem within my soul. They are always interrupting my thoughts. These humans never quite can ascertain the meaning of justsimple disappearing for a certain amount of time. The idea that we, and therefore I, can never be fully alone, makes my heart heavy in despair.
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| Collage self portrait (unfinished, soon to be) |
Would you not agreethis statements relevance to such a topic as I have so candidlypresented? “Even in literature and art, no man who bothers about originalitywill ever be original: whereas if you simply try to tell the truth (withoutcaring two pence how often it has been told before) you will, nine times out often, become original without ever having noticed it.” ― C.S. Lewis, MereChristianity. Quite certainly we see howthe ideas we are surrounded withand the thrusts of the world press and congeal our minds to substitute our own freedom. Our world and such the people within it, reside inside a plastic bottle towhich the inside label tells us willonly allow slight bursts of fresh airto ignite within our lungs. How so? Well they give us paint brushes to paint the scenery towhich we never truly experience butsimply document to turn into knowledgeand not a memory. They gave us music to avoid the singing of the birds, theflowing of the brooks, the harmony of the melody the wispy wind provides. For wasn’tthat just the annoyance? They provided dance, on hard floors, with specialshoes and sparkles and stiff poignant skirts with rigid lines; this to replace the rehearsals with the grassyfloors.
Our feet once upon atime could play notes into the earth’ssurface, dance with the wind, and feelthe scenery before we saw it.
People. They evolve into things greater. They become better. More advanced. However, simply only if yourdefinition of advancement is replacingone good thing for another of similar and slightly ostentatious qualities with increased marketability. For you cannot market the music of your backyard now can you? Simplicity has vanished. The earth, the trees, the flowers,the birds see no need in improvement andadvancement.” Nature does not hurry yet everything is accomplished..”(-Unknown) Simplicity isreplaced with dissatisfaction. Who’s to blame? People.
Just get rid of thepeople who think shoes are a must. Who believe that the sky is just up. And who will take a photo of a beautiful thing before they see it. Thosewho regard peripheral vision as just what your eyes leak to you as you pivotyour head. Those people who agreeit is logical to build one house upon another, simply because theone underneath was not sufficient to such standards they did not decideregardless. Get rid of those people. Placeme on an island somewhere with nothing but a good book to read over and overagain until the words sing themselves throughthe trees I walk next to and voice new stories from the branches I form withinmy dreams; then I’ll be happy. Then my ssoul may feel alive once more as itwas before I left the womb. People,people are the problem. Now one person…just one. Now that’s simple.
