Last night, I kept doing tours of the top of a skyscraper, which had amusement parks, gardens, and everything needed for human life on it. Except for actual nature, and something other than plastic.
And I looked at my world today, and felt I am plastic, myself. It’s interesting. I took a class on burial rituals around the world in graduate school, and rural Greeks, as of the mid-90’s or so, still buried then dug up their deceased loved ones and placed their bones in an ossuary. They were finding it tough, then, though, because modern plastics we unthinkingly imbibe delay or even inhibit the natural decay process.
Who knows how much plastic is in me? But plastic is where I seemingly need to live. So many of us live there.
Where is this world leading? Well, you, I, and chance have some say don’t we?
I thought I had more to say. It’s been a long day, and I am tired all over.
I am healing, slowly. I will say that. I was looking around my space tonight, and I feel I have put my feet in life, often. Sometimes those experiences freeze up, too. Sometimes. the risks I took, and the feelings that opened up, freeze up. I see this. But I have the key. The keys.
My place has pictures all over it, and every one has a story. I could do a two hour tour of the small place where I live. Meaning is everywhere. My purpose, the strong passions that drive me, is everywhere.
Often, I am silent when I am real. Oh, but what flows through me!!! I am oceans. This is life. This is life.