When I examine the workings of a gadget I take a close look
at its parts. At times there are wires, levers, and gears.
Sometimes there are moving parts and sometimes parts that do nothing but hold
or support the actions of others.
Whenever I
examine myself - I take a closer look at you. For example: I know that
you will never drop the, point nine, from the price of gas. I also
know that you will never use large people to advertise your gym
memberships.
All of the
little things I see you do tell me something about myself. On a
much larger scale I see you diluting the information age into nothing more than
fashion and gossip, while saturating society with advertising.
You are
altering the face of our culture, adjusting the class structure and manipulating
the chemistry of our food. I cannot help but notice these changes as I
myself must consider the fear-based ads, the health scares and become subjected
to the technological intrusions.
Alice kept
telling herself that she was in a dream; all she needed to do was to wake up
and everything would be alright. The scary part, however, is that the
Jabberwocky is not only real, but is taxing us beyond all rational logic, while
forcing us to register our Vorpal swords.
But I can see
that my thoughts have perhaps melded with those of the Hatter, so I shall stop
short of comparing a raven to a writing desk and return to the image of the
overweight person advertising gym memberships.
While I still thirst for the knowledge I missed while focusing on test scores,
you have advanced without direction or regulation. You have built things
that this planet cannot rid itself of; you have diverted resources to support
chaos and allowed government to ignore the very people it was designed to
sustain.
This shows me
that I am a complacent onlooker, and nothing more. My reflection blends
with the multitudes to the point that I become lost within the
gears. I am an inactive part of something I do not support.
Perhaps Socrates was wrong when he suggested, “The unexamined life is not worth
living.” Whenever I fail to scrutinize my life – my thoughts becomes an
oasis - void of political corruptions, absent of toxic environments and a
pleasant diversion from the insanity.
There is
something to be said for the race horse wearing blinders; his own heartbeat
drowns out the masses, his breathing quickly blends into a rhythm and his focus
is not on the finish line but simply on the moment at
hand.
Each of us develops nurtures and carries around our own reality. When
individual realities collide with each other several things can happen.
If during the collision it is determined that they are compatible, they become
friends. Should they be as different as say… a raven and a writing desk,
they let out an indignant snort and go their separate ways.
Then there
are those rare occasions when someone’s reality is spread out across a sheet of
paper for others to see. Lewis Carroll, Edgar Poe, A. E. Housman, and so
on have filled page upon page with separate realities. When I wish to
examine myself against those - I experience a somewhat calming sensation.
I do not hear a snort, nor smell the lingering stench of burnt popcorn, but
rather find myself reconsidering the unexamined life and whether or not
Socrates and I would have been friends.
zc
Other.