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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2001271-Dont-read-this
Rated: E · Other · News · #2001271
A headache
On that the plainest day, new thoughts were thought, new laughs were heard and old ones lost. Feet trod new ground and ears heard new sound. On this the most ordinary of days the earth changed irreparably; not for the better nor the worse, but for the sake of change. As Shelley most ably poeticised - "nought may endure but mutability."
The mind strains beneath the enormous pressures forced in all directions upon it by the advances of modernity. All five senses work ardently with their enabler to understand its own creation. What was once romanticised is scorned for its "uselessness" and duly replaced by a new pressure.
Metamorphosis has never been so complete yet incomplete, so rapid and still so slow, so advantageous and simultaneously so frightfully destructive. Yesterday we watched the sky fall down to the earth with such ferocity that houses shook from their foundations, trees thrashed in nervous terror, and humankind, who lay restless in their beds were reminded in their excited anxiety of their primal instinct to fear, despite the absence of imminent danger.
Moments such as these are not few. So often are we unable to rationalise, to understand events, to cope. As a species we believe in a superiority based on a concept of higher thinking. Within our species their are beliefs in superiority based on a concept of higher understanding. I though am quite assured by the insufferable stench of Man's collective conscience that we are the most confused of all. That we are the infant child with a tankard of ale and an assault rifle. That we as the builder of cities and the wagers of war will fear what will become imminent danger, will collapse beneath the pressure of asynchronous advance and will bare responsibility for the expiration of all.
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