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Category: Writing and Poetry

snow

it’s snowing - the first snow of the year. the skeletal trees are covered in a white dust, the freezing ground crunches under the people passing by. it’s all so pretty; the calm before the storm. a pure white blanket covering everything it can. how does it go from this into merely a grey slush? i guess that’s just what humans do to things. we find something beautiful and then we turn it ugly. it could be the snow, the ocean, or another human being. maybe the purpose of our lives is to destroy everything we can. at least that’s what it feels like.


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Arius

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I dig the nihilism here.

It's not humans that are the problem though. It's one particular miserable violent thieving culture based on private property ownership and domination that turns the snow grey, poisons the oceans, creates toxic relationships. Hunter-gatherers (aka most humans for almost the entirety of human existence until relatively recently on an ecological time scale) don't do that. (It's an easy mistake to make since this wretched culture has taken over most of the planet at this point, but there are still hunter-gatherers out there living peaceful happy lives in small uncolonized parts of the world.)

But there is joy in resistance. In being kind. In spraying graffiti on the sides of cop cars. In organizing and fighting back and shutting down pipelines. In growing our own food. In healing ourselves and each other and developing the kinds of relationships that leave people better off than they were before.

Yes, the world is very dark. But we can be the fireflies dancing in the night, living as fully as we can for however long we have.


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