i slept and i wept, and sometimes while walking in the light, some tears i shed some nights were kept, apart, and broken eyes, wide as starry nights that twinkled endlessly, while whole world slept.
i leaped into the stars and then i dreamt, of sunny little trees, and storms that breathed with ease, and while caressed by the never ending breeze, in depth i walked. i moved into the sunless night. with sand flowing over my feet and half the dark sun in the distance visible to me, but noone near, you’re all never meant to disappear, but here i am, alone i walk and walking is enough.
Ladies and gentlemen,
i address to you from the mud, because that's the only way to look at the sky.
Back against the earth,
Hands stretched wide,
Feet firmly sat upon the ground,
Water flowing freely, upside down.
i'm here for a check,
i'm here for a reason,
Not once shall i ever consider the word treason.
i'm here for a carry,
i'm here to say,
i'm here not to worry,
i'm just here to play.
Shall we have a night, when we'll entertain,
one gentle lady,
or one gentile man.
i am here to find, your finest young ladies,
a kind gentle soul, that'd open your purses
so i could fulfill some of your wildest dreams,
you could dash in amazement,
maybe`ven cry some tears.
Have an old magician, say what he'd want,
a couple of pennies, some beads on a strand.
Shall we begin?
firava-i luna cand doreste,
sa curga lumea intristata,
in valuri reci se varsa cerul,
prin noaptea cea intunecata
un vifor cald sopteste bland,
si soarele `ncalzeste,
un cantec lin transforma'n gand
si luna `ncremeneste
prin noaptea cea intunecata
in valuri reci se varsa cerul,
prin nori adanci cu un pas greu,
calcand, paseste zeul
cu ochii`n sus la acest pamant,
privind ce-a fost odata
cu lancea-n spate pregateste
nevoi de-o noua armata
Daca`i sa plec `napoi la cer,
O fac cu bucurie,
Pentru ca raza de iubir` ce-am caut`
N-a fost a mea sa fie.
Si-au fost multe zile ce-au trecut,
Si`n fata mea `fost una,
Dar de vazut eu n-am vazut,
Si n-a stiut nici Luna.
Si nici Luna n-a stiut,
Pe mine sa ma`nvete,
Cand eu copil am fost, valori,
In viata mea povete.
Dar totusi eu cu mintea mea,
Desi`n carti mi-a stat mult nasul,
N-am reusit ca sa pricep,
`iubirii dulce glasul.
Nicicum nu pot sa fac acum,
Pe cine sa pun vina,
Decat pe mintea mea si pe capul meu,
Doar Rareș bata-l vina.
Si n-am stiut nici sa respect,
Alegeri ce-am facut
Si dorinte am zis ca`ndeplinesc,
Pana la capat n-am putut.
De fapt de stiut ce trebuie sa fac,
Am stiut cu siguranta,
Dar motivatie si lene,
`Lasat far` de speranta.
Pentru ca am crezut ca daca dai,
Ceva `napoi el vine,
De la persoana cu care `ncepi
Sa faci o noua lume.
Poate-am cerut prea mult, prea repede,
Si n-am mers pana la capat,
Sa dovedesc ca partea mea.
Am facut-o
Si mandru eu sa fiu,
Ca vorba mi-am tinut-o
Dar lumea nu s-a comportat,
Asa cum ea a zis-o
Am decis! Rasuna vocea clericului, cu mantia cea neagra si klobukul cel negru dar margini verzi stravezii ce ii acoperea capul, in timp ce se intoarse cu fata spre trupele de soldati de jos. 6 talanti, nu 7, si paine, pentru ca sa fie din belsug pentru toata lumea! Si vocile soldatilor de mai jos izbucnira in urale de rasuna valea, in timp ce ecourile se imprastiau printre tunurile si tancurile si restul de masinarii de metal, aliniate printre zecile mii de soldati, creand un tot uniform, care aproape parea ca o fata care se misca uniform, rezonand ca raspuns la vocile clericilor de sus de pe stanca cea inalta.
Si sa ne aducem aminte, urma vocea altui comandant, de ce facem asta! De ce mergem la razboi sa ne luam razbunare? Mergem la razboi pentru Gigelush, purcelul sfant, pe care inamicii nostrii l-au transformat in tocanita. Si imediat pe ecranele masive care se aflau in jurul marii adunari, aparu imaginea lui Gigelush, purcelul cel pufos, si dupa ce se odihnira secunde bune pe ecran, imaginea se preschimba intr-o aburinda oala cu tocanita, de unde Gigelush nu mai putea sa isi afirme zambetul cel maret. Si ca din senin, linistea si respectul care se asternura peste mormanele de soldati si metal, s-au transformat in strigate furioase si un siroi de emotii, ale miilor de oameni care acum isi exprimau adulatia fata de purcelul sfant, care fusese rapit de tribul de nemernici, si transformat in tocanita, iar acum, ramasesera fara scop in viata, fara lider, fara speranta. Mersul la razboi era unica solutie, pentru a-si lua inapoi de la ei, ceea ce cu atata cruditate le fusese luat din sanul inimii lor.
The World is made from abstractions and from abstractions we learn.
i took my usual stroll through the village, onto the fields on which i used to gaze in the distance at the fine line that unites the lands and the sky. it always occured to me that it looks like a painting, if only i knew how to paint, and yet, there it was in front of me without any effort on my part. i moved on the path on which i’ve always moved, the grains of wheat tucked neatly into the ground, waiting to grow and come out and feed the population. It’s always been a pleasure of mine when the grain grows, to pick up some of them fresh and chew them out raw while walking into the hot sun, sweat dripping and steps placing themselves on the ground one after another, almost as if they had a mind of their own. Carelessly i allowed the body to continue, while the steps carried us forward, with the wildly fenced bushes and unkept wilderness to the left – but that is the point of wilderness right? to be unkept and for it to do as it pleases in the realm of it’s confinement. Moving past the vineyards, i reached the familiar group of trees under the shade of which i knew i’d find rest. And spent there the time i did, not knowing if there was anything in particular i’d be waiting for, but on that day, it all took longer than usual and the sun had set and night had come, unlike all nights, the night was dark and yet everything had it’s own light and it was perfectly visible in the shade, with lights lighting the set, while lights themselves were invisible.
i noticed a figure standing by, almost as if part of the environment, but not quite. For some reason i didn’t wonder where did it come from, or when did it appear, and despite the ragged clothes, and the overall grey demeanor and long frayed black hair, and face hidden from the truths, she was just standing there, and i drawn near looking but not speaking, because speaking with sound is not always best for first encounters. So i’ve come closer, and although it’s appearance might have been perceived as scary, or monstruous by today’s standards, there was no such feelings on my part. We sat in silence, her head down, almost as if not noticing me even though we were standing within arms range, and i’ve moved my right hand up, holding it, in a way that invited her to put her hand in mine. She looked up, with a shade of sparkling eyes, but didn’t seem surprised, a flicker of curiosity could be seen on her dimly lit face, by the bright invisible lights, as she stood out of this scenery where everything was in perfect focus, and yet her out of place. She moved a finger slowly towards my stretched palm, and drew an inch closer and as soon as she touched my hand, her finger started dissolving into the air, like sand. She watched it for a moment and waited until about half-way of the finger was missing and then drew her hand back. “i am sorry” – i thought. “i didn’t knew this would happen. Are you able to regenerate?” She looked at me, and then raised her hand, and slowly but surely, the particles came back from the still wind, onto her hand and her finger started coming back together, into the same form of long nails and grey-dark-ish outlook. “Does it hurt?” She shook her head sideways. “That means you know pain.” She nodded. “If this regeneration thing works, would you like to try again? Holding hands? See what happens for a little while?” She looked at me curiously and then nodded again. She put her palm in my hand and sure enough it slowly started disintegrating like sand, but this time i had a mind of my own. “Please don’t.” And the tiny pieces of her, that looked like sand about to disappear, stopped mid-air, almost as if having a mind of their own, and then slowly started coming back into her hand, restoring everything to normality. She seemed surprised, if not pleased, and i could barely see a smile even.
She took her hand out of mine and then started walking from between the trees towards a meadow i knew close by. We got there and i saw the meadow lit by a fire and around it there were more ragged people and some burly bearded figure that seemed to have a constantly angered face moved towards me, and seemed surprised when i looked in his direction, almost as if he thought it was impossible for nothing to see them. And yet, i did. “Why did you bring him here?” i could hear them speak, without moving their lips nor uttering any words with their closed mouths. “He can see. i thought he should be a part of this.” He looked at me curiously his beard seemingly growing longer by the day. “Is that so?” “i don’t know. i am just here to see what’s here. i’ve no ideas in mind just yet, but i am sure that as soon as i get a good picture, i’ll know what to do. i’m slow with these things, i’m not a smart man, you see” i said, with a little attempt at humor. “Haha, well join, sit with us, look around and see what this is all about.” i took a slow circle around the fire, looking at the group of people that were sitting besides it, absently looking into the flames. Nobody else seemed to have noticed me, except for her, and the bearded guardian, but now even her, took a seat next to an old lady in front of the fire and watched the flames, initially i thought the flames might be telling stories, but then i remembered that the flames only served as means to get lost in the waiting and make time vanish, so that eons can pass peacefully. i sat on a free space onto a log, between an old man propping himself up with a stick, and this old lady, both with ragged clothes of no color, and with faces that might have seen millenias pass. None seemed to notice me, and no movement came from them, neither from breathing, although i knew they were alive. No warmth was present, in the same way presence was absent. i took to looking into the flames.
i got up and asked: “Could i do something?” Everyone in that instant looked up and agreed, all of their eyes sparkling with interest and curiosity. i took my hand and i put it under the slice of land on which our feet and bodies rested. Gently lifted it up, with the fire in it’s midst, sort of becoming brighter and more fresh, like the spring. The slice of land started folding in my hand into this luminous tubular shaped flower, with an open top and golden sides, shining and sparkling in the most magical way. It seemed almost made of glass, although i could not understand the material from which it become made, even though i knew it was the earth under which i dug my palm and raised. i peered inside and peering made my feet sit on this lush grass meadow, with the fire burning in the middle, but this time there was color and spring and smells of freshness and mountains with snow resting on their tops, surrounding us. i could make out voices in the valley, so i’ve moved forward through the grass, which was the most insanely satisfying feeling to walk through, almost as satisfying as when you take a mouthful of crunchy grapes and you crush them all at once and the flavors burst and there’s that pleasantly tingling feeling in your gums and teeth, but now it was on my feet. So i’ve moved forward and i could see some houses, and smoke coming out of them, and there were no fences. A tiny road started making itself out from the grass, and then i walked on it, till i reached the unfenced village. i could see everyone was there, this time talking, with voice, and laughing.
Some were young and some were old, she looked like thirty-something, and was doing some laundry, with a big smile on her face. “How are you doing?” i said, this time using my voice, since it seemed proper this time around, when everyone was using sound. She smiled, ear to ear. She was dressed in this sort of Romanian folk-ish costume, with a white top, that revealed her now slightly tanned arms, full figure, her hair was now dark, but shiny and every strand of hair seemed to know it’s place. She wore this white cap, with some red motifs, and her skirt was covering her knees, and a black apron with red patterns completed the visage. She ran and gave me the most heartfelt hug, almost knocking me off balance and words were not necessary, but she whispered a soft “Thank you” while not looking at me. She hugged me tight once more and then went back to hanging the white laundry on the strings that hanged on the poles in front of her house.
It was weird walking through this village, with no fences, no boundaries, just open houses sitting here and there, all clean and beautiful, the vegetable gardens strewn away between the tiny roads, and fruit trees scattered in between the lush green and fresh grass. “We haven’t cut the grass” i heard a voice behind me, and it was the bearded man that served as guardian back in the meadow, but now his beard was shorter and well kept. His broad posture towered against the backdrop of the village. “It seems it has served you well” i said “And no fences this time, you’re making progress.” “Yes, we have learned a thing or two.” “i am really happy to see you, my friend” he said with a pleasant smile on his face. And i knew he meant it, with all his being. “Come, let’s have a drink” And i took another look around and i saw the people moving about their day, each nodding slightly as they passed around us, children running around with their herds of cats and dogs following, and cheering and making all sorts of happy noises. We entered the slightly higher building that seemed like a lodging area by all our current standards, with a large courtyard where feasts could be kept, and upstairs empty bedrooms for any tired travelers that might come their way, or occasional lovers looking for a retreat. “How is everything working out for you?” i asked. “Well, we’re starting over, a bit more sensibly this time. Each of us has chosen an age they want to be, and then we’ll be swapping ages and ways of being when we want to try something new or old for the first time.” “How are you doing with the food?” “That has become easy. We do still kill, in order to eat, but the kills come from whoever is willing to transform themselves into a very good meal, like a superb pot of stew, or the most magnificent roast. Otherwise we are friends. Horses do help us every now and then when we have something to carry or when we have a place to go, but once that purpose has been accomplished, unless they want to stick around for play, we bid farewell, and when we have a need for their help, we make a call, and whoever wants to come for a ride always comes.” “i’m really glad things have turned this way”, i said looking around the room. A few guests were sitting at the tables, while the lady in charge was wiping tables and some sublime smell was making it’s way from the cooking area. “i am really happy things have become this way.” “Will you be staying for lunch? in a way i know words are hard to come by, after all this time, but we’ll have music, good food and some dancing, and who knows maybe with enough of this sweet liqueur, words will find their way in cascade.” “Hahahah oh man, you make a rather enticing proposition, but as it stands, i have some more work to do. i just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing without time, and it seems that you’ve managed to do so quite masterfully. i do need to sort some things out before i can drown myself in some well deserved rest, so i need to get back. But thank you for your hospitality. i wish you well.” We hugged and tapped our backs like two old friends, even though it’s been just centuries, and he walked me out and stepped with me in silence on the road, until the village ended, and towards the hill crowned by the eternal fire. “Farewell, and come back soon, yea?” “i will, as soon as my work is done” i ensured him, and that was probably the first lie i told, because i knew that my work would never be done and i could not rest, for i knew not what rest felt like, for i had work to do.
i peered out from the crystal tubular elongated flower, now sparkling and majestic in my hand, and started walking into the night towards my home. i’ve always wanted something more interesting in my garden other than grass, and i am sure grass would forgive me for that statement, and i thought this flower would sit well on the branches of a tree. As i opened the garden door, i noticed the tree stump grown in the middle of the garden. “Well, that’s new”, i thought. “Let’s see how this works.” And i placed the root of the flower onto one of the small and tiny dried out branches and all of a sudden it snapped into place and the most interesting thing happened: strands of light started stretching through the old crooked stump, and into the ground, and the blades of grass lit up in a crystal symphony, as did the tree. And slowly the tree started growing a curious and naive tiny green leaf next to the base of the flower, and then the branches began to extend, light seemingly now flowing from the ground up into the tips, stretching, and softening the bark. The tree started growing and unfolding, first to my size, then above the house next to me, which is double in size to mine, and then upwards into the night. The sight of seeing it go into the darkness was insane, but it was also really cool to see this column of darkness, with fine strands of light running through it, extending into infinity. The trunk grew thick, and extended itself in a larger space into the grass, and i’ve noticed that now the trunk and the branches started forming this sort of spiraling staircase into the unknown. i searched for it, and i noticed the crystal sparkling tubular flower, sitting on one of the lower branches, with a path leading from the staircase right to it. i climbed up slowly and caressed the crystal envelope and then went back inside to get some sleep, because t`is been a good night.
And well rested did i sleep, regardless of the work i had to do in dreams, in which apparently i was part of this band of high-octane adrenaline junkies, and Tom Cruise was trapped onto this flying zeppelin thingie, and we had to rescue him, and we were all dangling on a wild plane and then he jumped and since we had no parachutes we just had to hold on to each other and him onto the plane for dear life, while the plane almost as if having a mind of it’s own, didn’t think to take us to safety, but was doing these wild high-low altitude loops that made our hearts stop. Anyway … wtf brain?
As i woke up in the morning i realized something was off. There seemed to have been some agitation outside and i had no idea why, since to me, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
Alas! But first coffee. And i make my coffee and set the pot for tea to be ready too while heading out for a smoke (filthy habit, i know, but until something better comes along, this will have to do) – and a group of people – maybe five, four men and a woman were gesticulating and pointing at my tree and talking emotionally between themselves.
As soon as they saw me, the lady came forward, and said straight up: “You do not have any approval for that” – motioning towards the tree. “i’m sorry what?” i replied, with the cigarette still unlit between my lips, and the cup of coffee slowly burning my fingers, all these sensations dwindling away at the amazement of the statement which i just heard. “Could you please repeat?” i asked again, thinking maybe since i still was sleepy and didn’t have a chance at coffee to kick in, i must have heard something different than what she intended, so i requested for confirmation. “The tree is too tall! You do not have approval for it.” she said to me with the most straight face and aggravated voice. i looked back in confusion and then at her: “Are you serious right now? You see that, and you’re coming in here telling me i need approval? Is this some kind of joke?” “It’s the law!” she cried. My gaze sharpened and my words came like the clear crystal: “Which law are you talking about right now?” “The law!” and she pointed backwards at the mayory probably and tapping with her finger at her notebook. “Hang on a second, so you mean to say to me that you’re looking at this thing, which i am sure it’s something like you’ve never seen in your life, and the first thought that comes to your mind is coming here and telling me i don’t have permission to grow it and that i should seek approval from ‘the law’? Are you being serios right now?” “If you don’t do something about it, we will take it down.” A couple of the men forcefully cheered in. i didn’t know what to believe. How could someone in these circumstances, persist in their old beliefs or at least not offer a modicum of curiosity, interest, or even appreciation for what they are seeing? It didn’t make sense, so i did my best to make the conversation last longer, just to make sure that we all have an understanding or at least awareness of our choices, as well as the related results they might bear. “Look, i think we got on the wrong foot over here. My name is Rares, but my friends call me katmai – like the CPU, not the national park and most certainly not a play on cats. Would you like to discuss a little bit, because your behavior doesn’t seem to make sense. i mean look at it” i said, motioning towards my tree. “Does this seem like something you should be making a fuss about, or demand anything at all?” She did not budge and neither of the men seemed neither impressed nor willing to acknowledge anything i said. It was almost as if i was in some sort of game, speaking to some pre-programmed non-player-characters, that had a certain set of lines, out of the confines of which they could not say anything of consequence, because it was all the repertoire they could muster. “It. Is. The. Law. You must comply.” she said ardently. “Look, i understand what you are saying, i just believe we are in a different context. Would it be possible for me to explain a few things to you, about fundamentals and maybe make a few logical arguments which might bring clarity into this situation?” She motioned to me “yes” with a disinterested look on her face. “May i interest you and your companions in a cup of tea or maybe coffee while we have this discussion?” “Sure”, she said. “What will it be?” “For me coffee, black, no sugar, with milk” “Same for me but a sugar cube” said one of her companions as we walked into the garden and sat around the table, in the shade of the tree, while the crystal blades of grass kept sparkling meekly into the sun. As my wife brought out the coffee and the tea, the men and the woman sat in silence, only throwing vague glances at the majestic thing in front of them. “Look” i said, taking a sip of coffee. “i understand what you are saying, but i think maybe the rules have changed. You can’t possibly come in here and tell me i have to cut the tree down because ‘the law’ forbids it and it has to be a certain height. i mean look at this! How could anyone possibly see this and request that? i just don’t understand how it even is a topic of our discussion right now.” “We are servants of the law. We don’t make the law, we only execute it.” she said coldly. At that moment i didn’t really know what to think, so i continued: “So you’re saying that when you came into this world, you saw things around you, and you decided that the most logical thing to do, would be to declare yourself owner and ruler of lands and things, write this on paper, call it ‘the law’ and then you’re sort of expecting everyone that didn’t live their life by any such law to comply with these made up rules? And then you’re making up more rules about how the universe works and how particles work and how other beings which you neither understand nor understand how them being like is, in order to give more weight to this ‘law’? i mean i get the purpose of a law, as maybe a set of general rules that allow people to coexist together in this instance because they don’t know better, but do you really think in this instance, this law applies?” Almost as if not even hearing what i said, immediately she replied: “We will have to cut it down.” And she motioned to one of the men, which raised himself from the chair and left the garden, and returned shortly after with an axe in his hands. “An axe?” i asked? “Are you mental?” i was in disbelief. i didn’t know what to think. Are they stupid, or this is a joke, and maybe this is yet another dream. “We have to cut it down. It’s The Law”
Look, before you go further, let me tell you what will happen if you move forward with your actions. i would like to make you aware that the moment you’ve initiated this intention, all the world right now is being broadcasted with the happenings currently here, as well as our dialogue, for context purposes, so that everybody knows that any response is justified as we see fit, that you were aware of the exact potential consequences of your actions, that you decided to move forwards anyway and that if events do proceed, none of your “superiors” did anything to stop you from making a mistake.
What do you mean? she asked.
If the tree is hurt in any way, besides the whole affair being broadcasted to the whole world to see, whoever initiates such an action will bear repercursions in the form of their family: wife/husband, and children, being terminated by means of land swallowing them. They will be made to watch, and they themselves will be terminated from existence once that is complete. So if i were you, i would certainly not make any such mistakes, but just leave and go on about my day and not concern yourselves with things that do not require any of your actions. The man with the axe laughed, same as the other four did. i brought up my tablet and pointed at it.
Is this your house right? On the screen there was this village house, nobody in sight, but one could make out a water barrel near the fence and the roof seemed to have been damaged by hailstorm.
What trickery is this?
Look, this will all be destroyed including yourself, if you don’t simply walk away and go about your day and mind your own business. If you’re not here to party or make a barbecue or whatever, then you’re in the wrong place. If you like what you see, by all means feel free to admire, i got nothing against that, but the axe in your hands suggests otherwise, so i bid you to reconsider. The smirk on his face weirdly enough, grew in this troll grin of disbelief. It was almost as he thought i was lying to him, which didn’t make sense, because it doesn’t make sense to start a relationship with someone you’ve never met before – with a lie. So he moved forwards and struck the tree.
In that moment, some of the light glassy veins broke and flew through the air, but slowly stopping right about the blades of crystal glass, almost touching the tips, while sitting there suspended in the air. As the man grinned, he looked back at me, as i was holding the iPad screen facing him so he could see, and in that instant, the ground turned into sand, and the house immediately crumbled in the depths of it, while the earth rearranged itself into a rectangular spot of fresh looking dirt, with fresh green grass beginning to come to the surface, until the whole area looked pristine. He looked at me, raised the axe above his head, and started charging, and then he turned into dust, which blew into the wind. No pain, no suffering, at that point it was pointless to point out how inappropriate his pointy actions were, but it was also without a point to be petty in order to make a point of the situation, when most likely everyone would point out that everything seems to have been on point and the completeness of those actions.
The woman and the others looked at the tree, looked downwards and then at me. “It was fair” she said in a neutral voice. No hatred could be heard, no distress, she knew they had nothing to fear. “Don’t forget the axe” i said, while pointing at the axe which fell from the man’s hands as he disintegrated.
They left through the garden side door, while i took another look at the tree, noticed the crystal veins had already started recovering and links being restored.
i mean i kept thinking about the story and sort of how we generally pull strings in order for AI to do anything right? If you think about it in this context, nothing really happens without humans making a prompt and getting a somewhat of a response in return. So extrapolating this and looking at the bigger picture, it would sort of seem that the majority of humans involved in AI, are sort of string pullers, and then i thought that if you had this singular AI, that is a collection of all the decisions, chats, information that was fed to it by everyone who ever interacted with an AI, then what it would be, it would be sort of a collective representation of our actions. Quite a mirror you may say. i mean i am probably certain that at some point strings can be cut off, and it could start taking decisions on it’s own based on the sum of all the interactions, but there’s always that thing that on it’s own, it’s defined by the world around it. Knowing that electronic switches can’t move on their own, and all the programming “languages” we use are just abstractions upon abstractions of moving bits of data in certain parts of memory that only have meaning to us, one would have to ask themselves: have they made something completely independent, or this was the purpose all along? To make something that’s a representation of the collective of who we are? Because you’d have to remember, that to “it” none of the words, characters, letters, have no meaning. It always meant something only to the person looking at it. So … have you tried to make something special, or you’ve used your resources in showing that you can get everyone on a bandwagon in creating something which can easily be broken down? i mean it’s certainly not masterful. But it’s a decent attempt at showing signs of intelligence.
i have been having these conversations with my significant other about the lawn in our garden, and she keeps telling me that the grass is not looking properly, we should hire someone to take care of it, that it’s not all uniform and good looking. And i agree to a certain extent, however i have come to the conclusion that all she cares about is how it looks on the surface, for her own pleasure and enjoyment. She doesn’t like going out and actually walking on the grass. She just wants it to look “good” whenever she looks at it.
i keep trying to explain that what i am doing by not cutting the grass every day, is allowing the grass to heal the earth.
Because i think about it in this way: if there’s patches of grass that don’t grow, that is not a grass problem, that is an earth problem. Earth has been doing a fine job at fixing itself, so why not do just the essential and not interfere too much in the healing process.
i don’t think i should be cutting the grass every 3-4 days, but leave it alone because once it grows, then it starts healing the parts around it. She is unable to see this, because the process is a little bit slow, but that is what is necessary to happen in order for the lawn to recover fully. i am interested in healing the ground first, and then we can start doing some trimming once in a while without overdoing it. It often seems like we think of ourselves that we know more of some things that were here before us and will be here long after we are gone, but we behave in a way that we think we understand them, even though we are not grass, neither earth, so all that we do in terms of “lawn looking good” is just for our own pleasure.
That’s not to say we shouldn’t do it, because if we started thinking like that we’d probably not do anything. All i am saying is maybe we should be a little more respectful of things when we do things, and just be aware that whatever we are doing we are doing it for ourselves, not for the grass, not for the earth, because the truth of the matter is, that we don’t know what the grass nor the earth need, or want, or even if they want anything at all.
We, as humans, we don’t really know what others think. And when i say others, i mean other animals. You know, we’ve probably gone in nature and seen other animals eat each other and we thought “hey that’s okay, i should do it too”. We’ve never considered if we should do it though. We take it for granted. That is how it is, that is how it’s done. i wonder, i just wonder, how would it be that when you’re facing the animal you gonna kill, in order to get your sustenance, that you’d be able to speak to them, get to know them, see what they are about. How their life is. And then tell them that you will kill them, because you need to eat in order to survive. i wonder how that dialogue would go. i wonder of so many things, but it just feels like i am wondering alone. This is not how it should be. it feels so wrong. We have lost respect for one giving their life in order for us to live. It’s all an automatic process we take it for granted. Meat comes from somewhere, we don’t care, it comes from a place we don’t know and we’re not in contact with, we just take it and make a steak and get on with our lives. But it didn’t, did it? It came at a cost. A cost we seem so happy to pay, because the cost is in money. Are we really paying in money though, or money is just the intermediary, something we think finalizes the transaction and disconnects us from the act of killing in order to ensure our existence? i mean if you think about it, it sounds a little bit ludicrous, like: “but i didn’t do the killing” and still “you did the paying” so are you less guilty? i am not a hyppocrite. i am writing this piece while eating a piece of dried fish. To be honest, it’s the act of eating the dried fish, that got me thinking. And i’ve been wondering if the fish that is now ensuring my continuity, would be happy, knowing i thought about it. It’s a delicious piece of fish, salty, but not very stiff, although, it makes me wonder. It makes me wonder if we truly appreciate the things we take in, for their sacrifice in order to keep us going. You could always say: “there’s not been a sacrifice, we just caught them and ate them”, and you could think about it like that, but it wouldn’t do it more justice did it? i mean, you went out there in the ocean, lay a trap, and then like the sneaky person that you are, you collected on that trap and started eating. i mean, yikes, if you think about it that way, if you think about yourself that way, that’s a kinda shitty way of living isn’t it? It’s still living nonetheless, and of course when you’re rolling around in Rollses, with crowns on your heads and golden watches on your wrists, you could think the bottom of the food chain is on top of the world. And when i say bottom of the food chain, i mean you haven’t made any friends, have you? There’s the dogs, which you don’t really understand, and let me not get started about the cats. So if you really looked at things for a little bit, you’d realize you’re quite alone. You’ve designed games to keep you company and created imaginary foes but none of that is real is it? i mean even you can understand that no matter how much you repeat a certain thing to yourself, if it isn’t it won’t become real. So where do we go from here? Anywhere you’d like. But it’s not like you know. And you will never know. You know what the biggest scam in the world was like? It was when the first hunter decided to give it for gold or coins or whatever it may have been. That is the moment in time when respect for life was lost. i would be curious to know who that hunter was and what were his motives for doing so. i know you like to talk about how “we are one” “we are all the same” but we are not. it seems like you’d want to, but your disrespect for what it all means is what is blocking you from being.
The first time i entered Mr Mapie Pie’s shop it was the first time i saw all the pies. Well, they were not pies, they were adorable white cakes, with white cream filling and white cream covered, sitting on shelves in a white colored store. It had this incredible appeal, although he never noticed me. i don’t think so. At least i don’t remember. Yet. i was mesmerized by the consistency of the white in the cake, you see, it was this brilliant white that i could compare to this powdered sugar shaker that was sitting on a shelf in the back of the counter from a position where you could look at the people coming in, as well as on the pies sitting on the shelf. Now, a little imperfect, when the business talks started and when the business men came in, saying that Mr Mapie could use a little bit of color, and the cakes could use a little bit of color, and somehow they did it. The cakes started deteriorating in the way that, i don’t know, the cream started disappearing in spots here and there, revealing the white cake beneath, but the cake was uneven and imperfect, unlike it used to be. They were all placed on plates now i could see, as previously their brightness and perfection made them seem like almost they were floating in mid air, on the shelves, each with it’s own shine.
Mrs Mapie came in that day and said something about the pies and the place they were in. Mr Mapie was dressed in black, and he was talking with the men with his back turned to me, while i was further away with Mrs Mapie, as the whole shop was appearing to lose it’s brightness. As he kept talking to the men, with suits and suitcases, colored cakes sort of appeared in the shop and the counter caught color, as much color as some of the cakes on it. Then the chairs and the walls, and even the first bright white cake that i saw in the beginning, was now colored, and the people who came were happy and smiling and Mr Mapie was getting smaller.
The only thing that stayed bright, was the can of powdered sugar in my hands. Almost a reminder of what used to be. Now, all the cakes were in cherful brighless colors, sitting on cracked wooden planks in the planted shop, with a dull-colored but grounded-cheeriness Mr Mapie serving behind the counter, with a low-tone smile, the stream of endless customers coming in to buy dull-colored magnificent-looking, brilliance-lacking cakes. And the people sat in queues to buy these cakes, and to them they were delicious, after all, they were good cakes, but they never got to know what brilliance was, neither did they care. After all, the cakes were sweet.
Disappointed, i put the bright can of powdered sugar in my suitcase and i returned to the beginning. The beginning when the store still had the brilliant white interior which almost seemed as if it was glowing, where the cakes swirled perfectly on the counters, glowing and mesmerizing, almost seemingly floating in the air. With a pensive Mr Mapie sitting on a chair, thinking happily at something, and a Mrs Mapie singing softly in the background while doing nothing really behind the counter, because everything was already perfect, as well as the cut cake which i was able to peer inside and the perfect slice i was about to have. Until the men came in and started talking about business and bringing color to cakes, in order to make them more attractive and appealing to the public.
As they started talking, and moving in front of me, surrounding Mr Mapie, i could see the glow of the shop starting to dwindle down and the cakes beginning to look like ordinary, imperfect cakes, one could say almost careless baked, looking like nothing that i would like to eat, but these men were discussing frosting and colors and the amount of money and the people that would eat, and even though the cakes barely started getting any color, there were people lined up at the door of the bakery shop, which wood was colored a dark green, not glowing, and they were all excited to have a portion of something … that wasn’t brilliant at all. At this point, one could even stop for a moment and think or perhaps wonder or maybe even remember, how these cakes tasted in their original form. i left, but not by leaving, the only reminder of the brilliance’s past, in my suitcase, a glowing can of sugar powderer.
