thinking, unable to turn out the lights upstairs. sometimes i remember to meditate in order to lull myself to sleep. sometimes i don’t.
i lie there, mind hopping from this to that. what was it last night?
polluted, decaying, trashed.
he said the sea used to love the rivers in mexico.
but she doesn’t any more.
so it was fear. anxiety.
i know. that sounds dramatic. but it is something i live with a lot. it is not a fear of physical harm that i live with. but a fear for the world. not of the world, for the world. a fear for the human condition. a fear of our effect on the planet. a fear of our nonchalance about that.
one time i was walking through a complex with some people. we weren’t supposed to be there. we were any way. i asked them if they felt like an invasive species sometimes. they said they felt like explorers instead.
i guess that’s how columbus felt.