Nothing's gonna change my world..

..if I carry my world with me wherever I go. Last sunday, a bird died on my porch. In my world, when birds die, it's only a chance for them to fly higher, where the claws of predators and the guns of hunters can't reach. While everything is still going awfully wrong in the world, especially the small world where I come from and the slightly larger world around it, it is sad (though somewhat comforting) to realize that in violence, we only fulfill life's most basic construct. Life feeding on life. Life the Monster. Life the Cannibal. Life's insatiable drive to propagate, and its endless capacity to self-destruct. All human rights and human laws are artifice in this ruthless scheme, the fruit of fear and weakness, of a realization that only us humans have, the tragedy of seeing and comprehending the fragility of our existence, and our inability to do anything about it, except fooling ourselves into establishing safer and more predictable systems of living, and occupying ourselves with the elusive pursuit of happiness. The bird that died on my porch was not the victim of violence, but it might as well have been. It was the victim of life, and where it lies now sure seems like a better place to fly and sing.


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