This is a diary from Heart(ly)town.
I bear witness, everyday, to something weirdly fascinating. A birds-eye view of the heartland of a country not big enough to have a heart. What I see is the breakdown of everything you thought you knew about people. I see disintegration transform; it is creation out of destruction. Abnormality is hard to see among all this mixed-up’ness. Every single detail of this view is mixed up with something. Be it the bare asphalt itself; all pockmarked from a hot season, barely coping with the stampede it suffers every day, and every night. The paint on this same asphalt; struggling against the many dangers that exist, which markings of this kind can fall prey to. This paint is a servant, created by humankind, to ensure safety among itself. In accordance with humanity’s strange and conflicting way, these safety markings is placed so it can be subjected to conditions that cause extreme wear on them, and eventually erases them. System and strength are trademark lackings in human safety measurements. This can be applied for the molded fixations brutally hammered into the ground at suggested “key” points. These signposts are similar to the paint; it is supposed to convey information, that if acted upon(sensibly, that is), would ensure system in the human mass passing past this post. Grotesquely deformed and bent out of shape, signs like these can be found everywhere in the world, and most of them would look like the ones I see. This is courtesy of the human instinct to blast any barrier, and cross every crack and stop anything stopping itself. Who knows how long it has taken for these usefull decorations to have deteriorated to this advanced state of ruin? I cannot help but see these things, everyday, and wonder why? Why is it made, if not to be useful? Why are people around me not encouraged to observe and process the information that is available to them, all around? Take a look, and think about it; all you need to know will always be provided to you through your senses, and your thoughts. Nothing else. So how come I see the lack of processed information, everywhere I go?
A view of a street is like a view of the universe. There are tiny little seperate masses moving around in a chaotic way, obeying seemingly no laws, execpt maybe a set of highly specialised laws, provided by some physical anormaly or advantage. These all create an abundant number of almost impossible connections to meld into something larger, more complicated and more capable of assimilating lesser forms of creation. It is all very chemical. The dangers of chemistry exist in the connections between people, too. Explosions, cleansing fires, burns and poisons. Nauseous fumes and dangers of passing out. It can all be generated from the mixing of the wrong ingredients, bad connections can be made, accidents happen.
It really is intriguing how every cosmos conceived by the human brain, can be applied to the human brain itself, and they will seem simillar. Matter, chemicals, the very organisms we came from. A single cell, making a connection, putting itself ahead. The brain too is a constant expanding network, in continous development of new connections. Nothing ever stays the same. Same as the experience of living. All is in constant motion, even if you stand still. The moment you stood still is never the same, because its gone. But something new always takes its place, because everything before that has added up to it. There is a natural continuation to everything, even if it seems out of place. Nothing comes from nothing. And this scares me. Because if I see precautions taken to keep us all alive and well, smashed and hammered to deformity, then I wonder about the mind that has caused this. How deformed and hammered was the perpetrator? And why is it still this way? The natural thing would seem to be an evolution in the human mind to NOT rebel againts its own safety. As the days go by, and the signs in the street comes closer to paralleling the havocked asphalt, my hopes for improvement is also close to flatlining.
