The spewings of my fingers upon a keyboard. Read, revise, comment.
If we do nothing about our impact on the environment, we will surely irrevocably damage the system which nurtured us to our rebellious maturity. We will accidentally strike down the hand that feeds. We will absolutely destroy nature and in doing so, we will suck dry the fountain that breathes into us life. It is our fault.
What ridiculous and absurd statements.
Humankind has only ever flourished. We are the epitome of evolution, of natural selection, and we are a step toward the augmentation of greatness. However, like all else which once ruled the earth, we will die. No. No we will not die, but change. All life, all imagination, all existence is based not on destruction and creation that mankind believes so fervently in, but is based on recreation, on change.
We, humankind, are but a speck of dust which has temporarily settled onto a pebble, but which will soon be swept aloft by the gentlest breeze or the fiercest gale. In either case, our speck of dust does not travel of its own accord. The dust holds no responsibility for the pebble on which it lands, or for its brethren dust particles which it may meet on its journey, or for the pebbles that mark its brothers’ journeys. We simply move from pebble to pebble, from life to life, from change to change.
Earthquakes shatter our buildings and hurricanes flood our houses and nuclear material poisons our bodies. We falsely behold the wrathful consequences of our actions that are merely the shifting of a pebble. We have not incurred the wrath of some foreign force, whether a vengeful god or similarly vengeful global warming. We have not created or destroyed. We hold no such power.
Whether the demolition of a star or the shifting feet of a nervous newlywed, the universe is in flux. It is this constant change that turns pages and writes passages and burns books of our existence and that wrote Shakespeare and the creation of man. This is the force of change. It is unstoppable, it is mighty, it is god and science and imagination. It is the spark in man and the flow of life and energy throughout the universe. We may but step back and admire the perfection in ourselves and the universe that we so blindly seek at our own flawed hands but which flows at not a fingers length and a glance up all around us. We may but relish our short time in the universe we have been granted a stay upon for we are soon to be swept to another place, to another form, to another existence.