What is dirt? This is a substance that has constantly eluded me. Only when I have my head snuffed deep in a pit of it do I even barely understand it. When I am immersed in it, the dirt going up the nose and into the system, the distinction between the living, breathing organism and the decomposing matter dissapears. I rise up fully satisfied.
But, as with all good feelings, this always ends up going away. As soon as I percieve the brown clumps with my eyes I start inferencing about it’s properties, it’s purpose, it’s concentration of lime and acid. I can’t help it. I am an analytical being. But perhaps I am just forcing myself to be. If I really wanted to I could lay still beneath the ground, and the worms would trail into my mouth and eventually land in my stomach, and my pores would absorb all the water that came down from the skies and soaked the dirt, and that would be that, nature would take care of me and I would subsist as a being, as a harmonious part of all the other beings and non-beings.
No, I am sorry to say I cannot voluntarily choose this way of life. I can never trust nature, it has betrayed my trust, by letting these humans go astray. It would be alright if only bits and pieces of this earth were on the inevitable road to destruction, but I am afraid that it is the vast majority. I must oppose that elusive force.
I will do it, brothers and sisters. I will do it and you can all rest. Go to sleep in the grass. Climb the trees! Suck on the berries and swim with the water currents! It is time to relax. There is no other advice I can give.
you are such a brave soul.
Humans have a funny way of referring to this thing that we call “dirt.” They call it “dirt” when it’s of no use to them. They call it “earth” or “soil” when it is. Alas, human-centrism at work.
Само собой разумеется….
……