The barren waste lands of the modern dinosaur
I stand upon a hill, a landscape stripped bare of all plant life, the ground covered with the remanants of some form of life. Hot, putrid air tortures my lungs and barely supplies me with any form of life giving oxygen. Puddles lie before my feet but I dare not drink it's heavy metal poluted water to quench my thirst or cool my throat. My stomach growns under the weight of hunger but nothing is before me that will quell the pain. All that once was, is gone, beauty drained from the earth and the sky. I wake, and I cry.
Dear reader, you will have to excuse my self indulgence into a brief moment of pessimism, a catalysitic scene best reserved for science fiction but I fear my nightmare will come to fruition with our current path. I am left angry, miserable and frozen with fear by our lack of action. We are wasting our time arguing over trivial problems, wasting our resources on trivial toys and wasting lives in trivia in general. We are nature's gardeners, the only creature on this small, and to our knowledge, unique rock orbiting Sol. She provides for us everything we need to survive and thrive and we rape her in return for her kindness.
Our leaders worry more about their own short moment of lime light and popularity than lead us to a higher level. I watch their bickering over our made up concepts of money, economics, borders, religions and gods. These leaders lead us down the short term path, closing their eyes and taking a step and hope it is not into the abyss. Any who open their eyes to see either shut them quickly and deny what they have seen or are pushed aside as radicals. I put it to you, dear reader, that the true radical is the one that acts without thought of the long term future, such are our current leaders. And I feel guilt. In a democracy, each one of us is responsible for them, we put them there and we keep them there. Not all of us on this rock have that luxury of choosing who leads us but some of us do.
Our consumption has hit record levels, a basic instinct which allowed us to survive in our early stages of development but now it has become a descructive vice. We queue to buy our toys with no regard to what it is made of, how much energy was used to make it, how much energy was used to get it to our begging hands and perhaps what is more disturbing, what will happen to it when it breaks and we throw it away. They will break and they will rot in the ground, the plastics, the metals and the electronic components will mix with the earth to form poisions which our mother will choak on and in turn, so will we.
A hypocrite stands amoungst you, crying foul. I am part of this problem as much as the rest of the slightly more evolved primates that litter this planet. I sit typing this rant of anger and misery on a toy, full of poisions, powered by burning fuels. I have become attached to these toys, even turned it into a career and I tear myself apart trying to justify myself and my place. There must be some balance that can be achieved.
If you have survived my writings this far, you have my greatest respect but I ask more of you. I ask you to think about your decisions, your consumption and control it with intellect and not instinct. Ask of yourself if you truly need, or simply desire. And should you need to consume, think about what cost it has to you and your fellow creature on this small, and wonderous rock. And I ask you one more thing dear reader, should you feel even part of my writings holds some truth, tell me, please let me know that I am not alone in how I feel.