The world collapses slowly, but it crumbles all at once. Like the tsunami that rages in from the sea. It started as a ripple from an earthquake fathoms below. A shift so massive the land must feel the sea’s fury, but not yet; not until it carries with it time and false hope that it will pass without incident.
It is kind, the waters recede before they attack you.
Life is not.
Life is under no construct of physics to be rational. Not bound by alterable rules about the way things should be.
I talk about the day given to us by the world. Every morning a new day to do with as we would. But the day is not ours alone. It belongs to everyone. So, the relevant carve out time that is remembered in the over 7 billion days happening all at once.
You, do what you will in yours?
And I, in mine?
Unfortunately, our time occupies the same space. Perhaps what you do in yours forces me to react in mine. Now extend that, billion-fold.
It’s lovely rhetoric, to say the day is ours to do with as we please. To imply that we are anything other than reactionary, and reactionary alone.
Everything we do is a reaction. We react to tiredness with sleep and the sun in the morning elicits wakefulness.
I’ve been holding words best left in the past too closely to my heart; that the world is ours to do with as we please. The world, is ours to react to as we please.
So caught up in my grief, I failed to see that any idea can and should be challenged. Progress cannot end in death. If we temporary creatures hold the thoughts of other temporary creatures as eternal truths only because questioning them becomes sacrilege on their memories, then we’re giving up on them. To hold only the profundities and claim them truths is to deny the mind that had them the immortality of evolution.
There is no shame in questioning the wisdom of the dead.
There is no sacrilege in finding them lacking.
There is no courage in holding them upon pedestals and inventing fictions in your mind of what would have been. Nor any comfort, other than the temporary.
We are reactionaries.
And that is why the world crumbles.
But we don’t have to be.
-Stay good and keep transmitting.
Escapades of a Bored Writer 
Leave a Reply