There are so many days of ceaseless wanderings through the the hollow rooms of birthdays and sleep, and the reawakening bliss of modern-life sub-dimensions. We are our own specters in these endless fields, it is enough in these breaths to know ourselves and resolve to know more. Despite the ancient leanings of past folly and the pristine gaping teeth of future concerns, we are tantamount to ourselves – the fearless captains of present flow-through meanderings. Ah, upon the ruins of ourselves we are windless.
It doesn’t satisfy the ego to be so stripped of pretensions, to stand skinless to the electric breeze, but this the way of thought; always sunk too shallow in wine to be well protected from the flames.
There are ruins in my country that line the out-lands. They are brave to be still standing, surrounded by the ceaseless lights of modernity, suffocated by the expanding townships. To go there now is to embrace insignificance in its oldest forms and functions; the ruins made meaningless by the permanence of time. Here among their stone and moss is authentic emptiness – there among the city is expanding nothing, the heartless gifts of craven joys and vain fakery.
It is possible to separate all animals into two groups – those that kill and those that are killed. Much has been expounded on the nature of this, many have been misguided in their conclusions of natural violence. Now we have more complete data and can safely attest to the incorrectness of this view. Violence is not natural when not perpetrated by nature, it is merely a simulation of natural elements. We harm without cause what we seek to destroy and thus we are both the killed and the killers.
It is important in these future days to know what to strive for. Once it was enough to want or to need, they fulfilled themselves in the action taken to receive. These threads continue in our species today, though we have new thoughts for old minds – new roots for old trees – we choose not to use them, or fail to appreciate their significance. Instead we clamour and pine, never getting enough fruit for our labours.
It is sadness unending to look upon the civilisation we have carved for ourselves in the rock of the earths life-blood. We have pillaged and spilled, stolen and brutalized. The ultimate parasite, doomed to destroy itself by killing its host.
In the current war of debt-based currency, inequality and climate violence, we are chaotically destroying our needed connections and biosphere. We are unable to see beyond ourselves, unable to factor in the consequences of what we do and unable to speak of what must now be suffered. We are the ill-formed children of our collective-abusive upbringing, part of what Alan Watts called ‘the hoax of society’, forced into slavery from school to the workplace, happiness unreachable from wherever we stand.
Our developmental-stage trauma has deformed us and made us unloving; our intuitive minds have been corrupted by pain and made unfeeling and callous. We are thus doomed to repeat our abuse, to inflict further crimes upon our offspring.
We have negatively evolved from innovative survivors to tyrannical destroyers. We have mutated into a new and more terrible species – the end-species – and as we destroy, we put in place the certainty of our own destruction.
We now stand among the ruins of our industry and civilisation – the interior ruin. We are the thieves, the life-destroyers, the broken people, the inter-generational tyrants, the pillagers, the unthinking abusers. We are the end-species – the harbingers of the final age of man.
Rievaulx Abbey ruins image source: commons.wikimedia.org
Ruins 2 image source: www.shaneshack.com
Ruins 3 image source: hdwallpapersfactory.com
Jungle ruins image source: blog.jilllenafordart.com