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I went out for some writing and coffee time this week after dark. Driving at night in the city is, for whatever reason, relaxing. I rolled all the windows down and enjoyed humid late spring air finally feeling cool as the van forced it into a breeze on my skin. I think that has a lot to do with it actually, taking nature and not quite following the rules it has to follow. The sun sets in the west and all the daylight creatures are forced into cover to sleep, to hide and the plants stop their feeding on sunlight and slip under cool, moist dew blankets; both forced to wait until the sun returns again from the east to wake from their rest.
The earth spinning away from the sun is all at rest but on our hard caste of pavement we drive about making noise like earth bound thunder with no lightening. Our footsteps on the walkways of our destinations full of more noise and false star light, shining so our weak eyes are not overcome by night, echoing like a persistent poke on the shoulder of an earth trying to sleep. The gas stops always look the most spectacular. They sit blazing like artificial suns constantly circled by a binary barrage of headlights that, when stopped beneath the stations towers of solar imitation, reveal a small, inner beast that buzzes around the giant waiting metal like a butler tending a needy child. The charade is lit up like a small stage show for an unknown benefactor before they rush off again like comets with red fiery tails left in their wake.
Anthropomorphizing: to assign human characteristics, rules, personalities to non-human entities or objects as both a means of connecting with it and a subconscious need to explain the unknown in terms we understand and feel we can control.
If I were the earth I would role over and thrash about until the world above me was silent so I could slumber undisturbed, so I could wake and not feel as though someone tried to poison me in my sleep or robbed me in the night of what was mine or murdered the other members I host upon and within my house. I would be irrational with rage at this point in history, fed up with malignant, ambitious greed of self-anointed petty kings and I would stir every voice and limb available until the beating, empty thunder of small humanity bowed under my Maker and realized that what they thought was important isn’t, what they value hasn’t any and they are indeed, small.

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One Comment

  1. Nice 🙂


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