|
I sometimes feel as if humanity is in its own form of an ant farm having been swept up in some catastrophic creation like event that placed us here and now. The tunnels which under original circumstances would be darkened are now illuminated by the light filtering through the transparent side walls.
So here I am in an ant farm placing my limbs and face against the plastic, looking out into a clouded and muffled view of some forbidden world only to catch my self thinking, “Am I the only one seeing this?”
As I stare out, the med compliant walk over me up the tunnel chanting, “Sugar water, sugar water.” And the shaman of the tribe walks downward along the tunnel saying, “Don’t look at it…it’ll notice and look back.”
What is an ant to do? Continue his boulder carrying ways or turn from this, emerge from the tunnel and scale the walls to that feeding opening at the top waiting for that golden opportunity at watering time when the lid is popped?
So here I sit pondering life, the universe and everything inbetween knowing the possibility exists that junior on the other side can wipe us out with one missplaced toss of a ball.
I don’t want to gather leaves. I don’t want to build tunnels. I don’t want sugar water.
I want to be the guy who visits the queen…and then I want to meet the keeper of the farm.
|