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Thursday, September 29, 2011

In the Beginning

For the past couple of weeks, my sleeping patterns have been completely out of phase and notoriously inconvenient for schooling life. However, this morning for no apparent reason, I woke at 4:30 and I wanted to take advantage of this blissful loneliness.

Face unwashed, stomach empty and my hair done up in a crude ponytail, I decided that I would take my dog and venture somewhere that would be momentarily untouched by human life: my driveway.

No matter how far I looked, the world was dead to me. What I could see, however, were snippets of what civilization had created for itself without any evidence containing it. It occurred to me in that moment, that nobody, not even I, had ever seen or would ever get to see exactly the same thing as what I saw then - creatures will never cease the endless cycle of life and death; birds in the sky will never take the path; cars will never be parked in the same place.

It was then that I realised that it was not freedom of choice or intelligence that put humans above other life forms, but rather an idea of change with the principle of survival underlying the ethos of our society. Creation, in its ultimate wisdom, has envisioned a matrix of infinite possibilities maintaining the progression of human consciousness.

Humans may never experience physical evolution, but what we ignore in our day to day lives, is the greatest evolution of all: the evolution of the mind. The "human" of 2008 is a very different to the human of 1908. I struggle to imagine believing, entirely, in a completely different reality - in different social norms or different modes of thought.

It is not merely the knowledge that we have gained over the years that distinguishes us from our ancestors, but is the ever changing way in which we view the world. It is what makes humans, human.

She and I sat there for what felt like an eternity.

I returned to the house, and checked the time. I had been out there for a mere thirteen minutes.

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As a side note, I'd like to mention now that I wrote this piece when I was thirteen years old. At ten days from seventeen, I read it and consider this quite the exercise in phonoaesthetics. I guess I never saw in reality exactly the same things on my drive way that morning (some might consider what I observed quite empirically to be entropy at work), but walking out onto that same driveway, I can see that picture in my mind as clear as anything.

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i am

vivien, and i ask you to convince me of otherwise.

i'd like to be

a musician
a scientist
a thinker
a photographer
a time traveler
under the sea,
in an octopus' garden
in the shade.

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