Verse 55
I do not want to return to the earth. I have spent enough time cleaning dirt out of things already.
I do not want to return to the earth. I have spent enough time cleaning dirt out of things already.
They say everything goes back into the great cycle, as if putting the word great before cycle makes it less annoying.
Yesterday the sink clogged again. If there is a divine order, hair has apparently been given a very important place in it.
I would rather be held together by tubes and wires than lovingly received by worms, thank you very much.
Nature is beautiful from far away. So are thunderstorms, volcanoes, and certain relatives.
There is something deeply suspicious about a world where everything survives by eating something else and then poets call it harmony.
My neighbor grows tomatoes. Every summer he gives me too many and every summer I say yes because refusing tomatoes feels strangely immoral.
Maybe this is what being human is: knowing we are temporary and still buying furniture that takes six hours to assemble.
I have no objection to being artificial. Teeth can be artificial. Hearts can be artificial. Half my opinions probably are too.
If the body fails, repair it. If the repair fails, repair the repair. I see no holiness in accepting bad engineering early.
Someone once told me death gives life meaning. Losing my keys gives twenty minutes meaning too, but I dont praise the keys for it.
There was a fly in my room all night and by morning I understood why ancient people believed in demons.
I like trees. I just dont want to become one.
The old books speak often of dust. Probably because nobody had invented stainless steel yet.
If heaven exists I hope it has decent chairs. Eternity is a long time to stand around looking enlightened.
The sun came through the curtains at six this morning and landed directly on my face. Creation remains poorly configured.
I sometimes think humans invented cities because deep down we wanted several layers of concrete between ourselves and whatever is crawling under the grass.
The body is supposedly a temple, but temples usually have maintenance staff.
Mine needs coffee, painkillers, clean socks, and occasionally someone with a medical degree. Very sacred stuff.
I dont understand people who say they want a natural death. Pneumonia is natural. So is getting eaten.
Give me machines with blinking lights. At least when a machine hurts you there is usually a manual somewhere.
I saw a bird eating another bird once and decided not to ask nature for moral guidance anymore.
We bury our dead and then say they have returned home. I have never called a place home when it immediately starts dismantling me.
Perhaps the human soul began the first time some animal looked at the forest and thought: absolutely not, I am building a wall.
Fire was good. Clothes were good. Antibiotics were extremely good. We have been insulting nature successfully for quite a while.
This doesnt mean I hate the world. I hate several of its default settings.
I ate instant noodles at two in the morning and felt more gratitude toward the inventor of the kettle than toward any agricultural deity.
The strange thing is we came from nature and immediately began inventing ways not to live like it.
Maybe that is our particular miracle. Not that we were made from mud, but that the mud eventually demanded anesthesia.
I want my last room to smell like disinfectant and overheated electronics, not damp soil pretending to be profound.
And if someone says this is fear of death, yes obviously. Fear is one of the reasons we invented doors.
There is no shame in wanting one more hour. Even the evening sky seems to drag the light out when it can.
When I am gone, do whatever is least useful to the ecosystem. Put me somewhere inconvenient.
Let the grass find its own nutrients. Humanity has spent thousands of years getting out of the food chain and I see no reason to rejoin it at the finish line.