Gazing out the translucent glass of a mountain top sized apartment upon the haze of graying dew I discover the world we inhabit. A world of lust and riches abound that the very touch of a human hand can obliterate the delicate forces surrounding us. Each breathe we breathe is that of one which encompasses the bounty of our being. It is life sucked from us as we step into the world loud men shout out our supposed path to take. Our decisions are forcefully ripped from our consciousness and given to those with power and prestige. What once was has gone and what we are now we must be.
We are a society of copious consumption that engulfs our every being. From behind every eye lies a mind filled with desire and a heart longing for meaning. We stuff bags to the brim as we desperately cling to the material that holds us together. From behind those eyes is a life of defeat. A force so large that tells us every minute that we need these things to find contempt. But when I look out at the haze of gray all I see is a world once with beauty filled with the product of our greed.
Every face is silently telling a story of what their life is meant to be. A woman gallivants through the corridor with crimson heeled shoes as she delicately tosses her hair in the breeze. Her hair falls around her face enveloping the time and space that our time meets. But all I see is a façade covered in glamorous things that were produced in lands filled with dirt and debris. I see a family dependent upon the sullen face of the mistress to meet their every need. When all they want is a place to sleep that is not filled with the dark dismay of a life surrounded by misuse. Once more I succumb to the suffocation of the gray haze.
The neglected ideals that are thrown away as a human exists upon a once grassy land are but a fading memory as decades pass away. A once glorious landscape destroyed as we look through the fading eyes of the world. A farmer’s field laden with chemical laced dew yet the government says it’s nothing new. Food is food to feed the world though animals get more pristine patches than what lay upon my plate. The forces that drive the weather are soon dictated by the hand of man to meet our every need. When weather was once a delicate ebb and flow to sustain the life of all it held. No longer does it have control as it contests with the exploitation of man.
Darkness I worry has touched the hearts of many to envelope the way we see the world. A dotted line filled with empty promises drives society through and through. This mountain top I call my home holds no life but that of a hope for something new. With every check that is cashed comes contemplation of what defines me. I am torn by the world of gray that holds me down to frivolously consume. The haze outside is getting darker and I fear I am too.
But as I peer through the haze there becomes a story told of new; a story that views the mass depletion as a way to know me too. I see my things before me as if they all were true; that every bought and purchase has meaning in itself. That very material I was bore from does not have to define me. The world is wrapped in silk and linen but why must I too? Is it not for their benefit that I do as they do?
Consumption lies upon the insightful compromise of oneself to the acceptance of others. The very core of a being is engulfed by the melancholy approval of their defeat. That someone must suffer an ungrateful death to bear the material wrapped around us. The liquid that once brought life carries promise of extinction from the unending want of man. From behind the blindfolds and mounds of trash we see the burials we are holding when we chose a path of greed. We bury those that had no choice with our own disconnect to the earth. In with every purchase that we make creates an unending desire of self-worth.
Waste is but a word that man created to say, “I want more.” It is a proverbial decline in value of a resource we once knew. A resource we take for granted as we thoughtlessly consume. There was a time before the gray haze of our world that man loved what he knew. That the sacred ground on which he lay provided for his every need. The water fell upon his feet to quench his soul anew. That all he once needed was to know what to do. Somewhere on this path he faded and this is where we meet.
I say to you that man knows what he should do. But all along this path are enticing possessions abound. The way he should take has no direction nor does it hold promise of fame. What it holds is a life devoid of all the pain. When riches are before you and you strike them down, you will find the leverage to devoid this contaminated ground. Because as you stand and gape as far as you can see the only thing before you should be who you want to be. Then forth from this gray haze our society could be.