Portrait of the world, breaking its own heart. Again and again and again and again.
Poring over some haunting photo journalism by photographer Enri Canaj, following a link that a friend shared.
Sobering. I almost titled this post”A wake-up call”; but, to be honest, I believe it may be too late for that.
A eulogy, then.
We are so cruel to each other.
We are sloppy sacks of misery and intolerance and hate. So fearful of what we don’t understand. So quick to condemn, so slow to show compassion.
So alienated from the spirit of the universe that we have had to invent our own gods and tell ourselves stories about being chosen, righteous, better than, saved.
Scrunched up all the time…like fists, like cramps, like wads of worthless paper thrown together, on a planet that is increasingly like a compost heap.
We chase entertainment and material goods as though they were of lasting pleasure and importance…loathe to admit that their effects live only briefly…the flare of a matchstick, and then gone again, leaving us in the dark once more.
Even the most wealthy, the most beautiful, the most famous, the most powerful among us seem to hover always on the brink of hysteria, anger, despair, madness.
We think ourselves superior to animals, but the most ordinary earthworm is happier than any of us, knows its place and purpose better, and is more assured of grace.
Humanity. Our viciousness and ugliness and stupidity…
So let’s get it over with, then…the sooner we’re all out of the way, the better we’ll all feel.
And here’s a funny thing: I don’t feel like discussing this with some online Pollyanna, so I won’t.