What a wonderful thing paranoia is. Yes, we claim that it is unpleasant, but really it is stimulating. The panic and excitement is riveting, and then, when things get close to no return, one is suddenly saved by a reassurance. Paranoia means living on the edge. Even if others see your life as very normal or uneventful, you know that you are stepping close to a boundary line on a regular basis.
There is also the pressing question of truth that is a fundamental part of being paranoid. The argument with the accuser of “paranoia”, where they think you are without reason. Yet, you know that there is a strong possibility that you are right, and not paranoid, yet feel a certain hopefulness at actually being proved wrong, making what you thought to be true, in fact, untrue. The demand for proof from the non-paranoiac is met with the same demand, the latter always making a stronger challenge.
You see, the paranoiac is in a win-win situation. If they are paranoid, the problems they thought they had are not actually true. Also, with the acceptance of this status, they can relax and not feel guilty about it. “I am paranoid, therefore I am right to have these suspicions.” If the feelings and suspicions they have turn out to be true, then they have the satisfaction of knowing that they were not paranoid all along – the others were all fooled, but not this one.
11.9.08
Fragility
With a stretch I pull a muscle, with a gentle tap I bruise, with a sneeze my back tightens, with sex my legs ache, to be in close contact with strangers I catch their cold. To have a weak body can leave one with feelings of constant regret. ‘Why did I move in that position?’ ‘Why did I not protect myself more adequately?’ Not just regret, but fear of the future too. ‘What will life be like in 30 years with such a body?’
If one has a weak body, but is a genius, that is ok. “Well, his physical weakness added to his greatness.” “His suffering made him what he is, giving him the perspective that no-one else can have.” I am no genius though.
The problem with such physical weakness is that one accepts it as one’s essence, and thus nothing is done to combat it. Is the acceptance as this weakness as one’s essence not a sign of yet another, non-physical weakness? Weakness of the mind – what a combination to have. I do not want to delve into that. (Certainly showing the very weakness of her mind).
If one has a weak body, but is a genius, that is ok. “Well, his physical weakness added to his greatness.” “His suffering made him what he is, giving him the perspective that no-one else can have.” I am no genius though.
The problem with such physical weakness is that one accepts it as one’s essence, and thus nothing is done to combat it. Is the acceptance as this weakness as one’s essence not a sign of yet another, non-physical weakness? Weakness of the mind – what a combination to have. I do not want to delve into that. (Certainly showing the very weakness of her mind).
17.8.08
The Destruction of Humanity
Nihilist; Pessimist; Miserablist; Complainer; Destroyer of Humanity. These are accusations expected to be thrown my way due to my tendency to complain at times.
What a mistake this is. Often the complaints of daily life, as tiresome as they may sound to those listening, are not ones that want to simply destroy. In fact, these complaints and hatred of the world are often those that want to rebuild (and if it involves any destruction, it is to enable something else).
Of course, it cannot be denied that anyone who really is a nihilist, moaner, or destroyer of humanity would refute these accusations. Therefore my testimony cannot be trusted. Besides, even if I were trusted, unless the destroying and rebuilding is actually taking place, what use is this? In fact, without the latter taking place, one could rightly accuse me of being a pessimistic nihilist, with a tendency to complain alot. It just goes to show that often in life we do not see the forest for the trees.
What a mistake this is. Often the complaints of daily life, as tiresome as they may sound to those listening, are not ones that want to simply destroy. In fact, these complaints and hatred of the world are often those that want to rebuild (and if it involves any destruction, it is to enable something else).
Of course, it cannot be denied that anyone who really is a nihilist, moaner, or destroyer of humanity would refute these accusations. Therefore my testimony cannot be trusted. Besides, even if I were trusted, unless the destroying and rebuilding is actually taking place, what use is this? In fact, without the latter taking place, one could rightly accuse me of being a pessimistic nihilist, with a tendency to complain alot. It just goes to show that often in life we do not see the forest for the trees.
21.6.08
Notes on Domination: The Mediation of Colour
When something, anything, this or that, is put to use, it signals the impending destruction of mankind. This is especially so when something so natural and so beautiful, that which we often take for granted, is seized upon and thrust upon us with force, trying to maintain the feeling of naturalness, hiding the manipulation (or even not hiding it).
Colours are a fine example of this: that which is to be looked at with pleasure and admiration, beyond our grasp, yet not out of reach. We have the gift of seeing colours, the relationship between the human eyes and the colour should be direct between those two only – no third party should be involved.
Colour is suddenly put to use. Red signals danger! Black signals death! White signals purity! Yellow signals happiness! Blue signals a boy! Pink signals a girl! Grey signals unsure territory that one should stay away from! Cultural lying has ensured that colour comes with the mediation of a third authoritative party, who seeks to control your minds. Even the shades of colour are put to use. The prison or the asylum use this colour to impose a feeling onto the deranged or criminal – a crackdown on crime with pastels (though this is once captured, before then only the strongest, most dominating colours are used).
People in homes in pursuit of the mood they long for, take heed.
Colours are a fine example of this: that which is to be looked at with pleasure and admiration, beyond our grasp, yet not out of reach. We have the gift of seeing colours, the relationship between the human eyes and the colour should be direct between those two only – no third party should be involved.
Colour is suddenly put to use. Red signals danger! Black signals death! White signals purity! Yellow signals happiness! Blue signals a boy! Pink signals a girl! Grey signals unsure territory that one should stay away from! Cultural lying has ensured that colour comes with the mediation of a third authoritative party, who seeks to control your minds. Even the shades of colour are put to use. The prison or the asylum use this colour to impose a feeling onto the deranged or criminal – a crackdown on crime with pastels (though this is once captured, before then only the strongest, most dominating colours are used).
People in homes in pursuit of the mood they long for, take heed.
8.6.08
Bees
Bees are wonderful little (but by no means inferior) creatures. Intelligent, graceful, caring and always busy; the bee knows how to use it's time well. How can one not hold in high esteem a creature that likes to spend its days making honey, buzzing around colourful flowers and hunting sticky sweets? All this, and the perpetuation of mankind!
7.6.08
The Pleasure of a Tickle
One of the most pleasurable things in the world is to experience a gentle tickle, a tickle that is like a gentle stroke. This is not just for the back, it can be on the arms, legs, even chin, and feels wonderful. Tickles on the side of the body can be nice, but often it tickles a little too much, thus interrupting the pleasure.
Getting hold of these tickles can be a problem. One cannot ask a friend, even family (unless you are a child) to give such pleasure. A spouse may give tickles, but not for long (at the beginning of the relationship they are always willing to give them for 30 minutes, sometimes more. Later in the relationship you have to beg for 2 minute's worth). You can only get so far tickling yourself – not only is the pleasure taken away from having to actually undertake the tickling, but as tickler, you know exactly where the tickle is about to happen – no sweet surprises there. Plus you cannot comfortably reach your own back.
A tickle machine is out of the question – it must be a human touch, otherwise one feels sick to the stomach, and guilty of such an obscenity. Pets cannot do it either. Though they sure as hell have no problems accepting them, even from strangers in the street.
I suppose the biggest problem is that the tickler finds it boring and gets a sore arm after a while (or worse still, wants the tickled to reciprocate). Until this state of affairs can be changed it will remain difficult to obtain these gentle touches.
NB This tickle is NOT of a sexual nature. If that is what you are looking for, you are in the wrong place.
Getting hold of these tickles can be a problem. One cannot ask a friend, even family (unless you are a child) to give such pleasure. A spouse may give tickles, but not for long (at the beginning of the relationship they are always willing to give them for 30 minutes, sometimes more. Later in the relationship you have to beg for 2 minute's worth). You can only get so far tickling yourself – not only is the pleasure taken away from having to actually undertake the tickling, but as tickler, you know exactly where the tickle is about to happen – no sweet surprises there. Plus you cannot comfortably reach your own back.
A tickle machine is out of the question – it must be a human touch, otherwise one feels sick to the stomach, and guilty of such an obscenity. Pets cannot do it either. Though they sure as hell have no problems accepting them, even from strangers in the street.
I suppose the biggest problem is that the tickler finds it boring and gets a sore arm after a while (or worse still, wants the tickled to reciprocate). Until this state of affairs can be changed it will remain difficult to obtain these gentle touches.
NB This tickle is NOT of a sexual nature. If that is what you are looking for, you are in the wrong place.
To Return, Again
Dear Reader,
The problem I have when writing is that I begin with a thought and from thereon simply write, with the excitement that I am proving my point so perfectly. When I come to the end of writing I suddenly realise that my argument has gone in a 360° circle. My argument has, in fact, proved the very point I was so against at the beginning. The strangest thing being that the content of my argument is not even inconsistent. I am then faced with the question, “What is the right thing to do, and who should it be right for?” Often I have to re-think the whole situation. Often I keep this written piece for my eyes only (some of the few secrets I have in my life). Other times I accept the fate of my theses, with the worry that all those reading will regard me with certain ridicule.
Whilst I cannot at any stage refer to a form of a priori determination by which this writing would be guided, I do hope that this will not cause any distrust between us.
Unassuredly Yours,
The problem I have when writing is that I begin with a thought and from thereon simply write, with the excitement that I am proving my point so perfectly. When I come to the end of writing I suddenly realise that my argument has gone in a 360° circle. My argument has, in fact, proved the very point I was so against at the beginning. The strangest thing being that the content of my argument is not even inconsistent. I am then faced with the question, “What is the right thing to do, and who should it be right for?” Often I have to re-think the whole situation. Often I keep this written piece for my eyes only (some of the few secrets I have in my life). Other times I accept the fate of my theses, with the worry that all those reading will regard me with certain ridicule.
Whilst I cannot at any stage refer to a form of a priori determination by which this writing would be guided, I do hope that this will not cause any distrust between us.
Unassuredly Yours,
Me and You and Me
The difficulty of being with another has, for me, nothing to do with the commonly expressed complaint of ‘losing one’s identity’. In fact, the problem is perhaps that one has managed to formulate their identity, and show this as fully as possible to the person they are with. This is problematic as it then becomes impossible to ever do this with anyone else. By being able to express oneself so fully to another can only lead to the downfall of relationships with others. A sanctuary at home, but one must always remain there.
10.5.08
GSOH
I would like to know what the value is of having a “good sense of humour.” When someone craves a “good sense of humour” what is it they really want? The person with a GSOH (and this abbreviation, as awful as it is, is very appropriate for this personality trait) is someone that refuses to challenge that which is put in front of them. Someone who will join in the fun, have a good chuckle (even at some naughty stuff). Someone who will make fun of a friend (in the most jovial fun-loving way), and is prepared to be made fun of. Someone who will laugh along appropriately with the crowd they are with, even if it is accompanied by feelings of guilt inside . A gutless person whose main concern is being liked and being safe. The individual with a GSOH will go to heaven (but can go to hell).
Why on earth is the description of a “GSOH” a compliment? Why would a person seek this in a companion? Is it the fear that if a GSOH is not specified they might get someone who has a bad sense of humour? Worse, none at all? Why does that personality trait take preference over many other ones?
The person with a good sense of humour is, quite frankly, a bore who has nothing to offer but meaningless, untrustworthy laughs.
Why on earth is the description of a “GSOH” a compliment? Why would a person seek this in a companion? Is it the fear that if a GSOH is not specified they might get someone who has a bad sense of humour? Worse, none at all? Why does that personality trait take preference over many other ones?
The person with a good sense of humour is, quite frankly, a bore who has nothing to offer but meaningless, untrustworthy laughs.
The Same Difference
Without believing to be different from anyone else (though secretly desiring this more than anything), it can be difficult when one sees that another human being can lead a happier or less complicated life than oneself because they do not follow strict rules of what they do not want to be (this is not even a question for them). The restrictions given to oneself can often lead to the question, “Why can’t I be like the others?”
Today I bought a dress. The warm weather had arrived in the city, and in a moment of heat-induced madness a dress was bought. Not one to normally wear dresses (particularly those with a feminine quality), the decision came because I wanted to cool down like other ladies do. I considered that men do not wear dresses, and therefore my situation is no worse than theirs. I came to the conclusion that it is worse as I cannot wear t-shirts and baggy trousers (who really can?).
The dress is simple, but not to my taste. I desperately want to wear this linen-lycra mix dress like the other ladies do but I am certain that tomorrow I will take it back to the cheap shop it came from. I do not know what the bigger problem is: wanting to be the same or wanting to be different. I do know that I will not be wearing that linen-lycra mix dress.
I bought a dress in a similar situation last year. I wore it once then realised it was not right. I should have accepted my lot then.
Returning to the question, “why can’t I be like the others?” Don’t you already know that you are? What a shame, as one really does not want to be like the others, and is, in truth, under the false impression that one is different (but, of course, to admit this would be to open up oneself to great criticism).
Today I bought a dress. The warm weather had arrived in the city, and in a moment of heat-induced madness a dress was bought. Not one to normally wear dresses (particularly those with a feminine quality), the decision came because I wanted to cool down like other ladies do. I considered that men do not wear dresses, and therefore my situation is no worse than theirs. I came to the conclusion that it is worse as I cannot wear t-shirts and baggy trousers (who really can?).
The dress is simple, but not to my taste. I desperately want to wear this linen-lycra mix dress like the other ladies do but I am certain that tomorrow I will take it back to the cheap shop it came from. I do not know what the bigger problem is: wanting to be the same or wanting to be different. I do know that I will not be wearing that linen-lycra mix dress.
I bought a dress in a similar situation last year. I wore it once then realised it was not right. I should have accepted my lot then.
Returning to the question, “why can’t I be like the others?” Don’t you already know that you are? What a shame, as one really does not want to be like the others, and is, in truth, under the false impression that one is different (but, of course, to admit this would be to open up oneself to great criticism).
6.5.08
Beautiful Umbrella
It is problematic to want to turn back time. To return to a time. No, to bring to the present that from the past, be it a feeling, an atmosphere or an event.
Nonetheless we cannot help thinking of things from our age that we dislike and comparing that to the time before, longing to remove that specific thing from its past context and bring it to the present, replacing the present equivalent with the perfect form from a lost age. An example of this is the umbrella, or rather, the whole politics of the umbrella in today’s society. In short, the problem of the disposability of umbrellas in our present age.
People are happy to walk around with the ugliest of umbrellas, and the cheapest. It is of no concern if the umbrella is lost or stolen – another one can easily be bought. This goes on and on. People lose their umbrellas because they do not care about them. Ugly, cheap, disposable.
There was a time when umbrellas were well made and very beautiful. They even had strength. With such an umbrella, gone would be the burdensome days of carrying a rain-protector. In fact, it would be a pleasure to carry one – we would no longer have to judge the weather: “should I take an umbrella with me?” “What if it rains later?” We would want it to rain, and would take our umbrellas out with us always in the hope of prompting fate.
The argument for practical value (as opposed to aesthetic) is fine, but even in this scenario we see the same problem: practical and functional should not mean disposable.
Of course, this can be said about many things: kettles, plates, clothes and cars. But there is something about the elegance and the function of the umbrella that makes the lack of concern (and respect) for it particularly offensive. It is difficult to find objections to bringing forth to the present the (now lost) relationship one used to have with their umbrella.
Nonetheless we cannot help thinking of things from our age that we dislike and comparing that to the time before, longing to remove that specific thing from its past context and bring it to the present, replacing the present equivalent with the perfect form from a lost age. An example of this is the umbrella, or rather, the whole politics of the umbrella in today’s society. In short, the problem of the disposability of umbrellas in our present age.
People are happy to walk around with the ugliest of umbrellas, and the cheapest. It is of no concern if the umbrella is lost or stolen – another one can easily be bought. This goes on and on. People lose their umbrellas because they do not care about them. Ugly, cheap, disposable.
There was a time when umbrellas were well made and very beautiful. They even had strength. With such an umbrella, gone would be the burdensome days of carrying a rain-protector. In fact, it would be a pleasure to carry one – we would no longer have to judge the weather: “should I take an umbrella with me?” “What if it rains later?” We would want it to rain, and would take our umbrellas out with us always in the hope of prompting fate.
The argument for practical value (as opposed to aesthetic) is fine, but even in this scenario we see the same problem: practical and functional should not mean disposable.
Of course, this can be said about many things: kettles, plates, clothes and cars. But there is something about the elegance and the function of the umbrella that makes the lack of concern (and respect) for it particularly offensive. It is difficult to find objections to bringing forth to the present the (now lost) relationship one used to have with their umbrella.
The Pleasure of a Haircut
What a wonderful feeling to get great haircut. “I want this haircut to last forever.” “This really will look great with all of my clothes – even the scruffy ones.” “I’m going to be the envy of all with this look.” “This haircut really makes the features on my face look more attractive.” “My reflection in that shop window looks so good.”
A great haircut revives a person. It makes one want to go out and grab life – it must be done to show off the hair.
I am unsure how the hairdresser who performs the great cut feels about this. Do they realise that they have made such a difference to someone’s life (even if it is just until the hair grows a bit)? Whatever they feel is of no real concern, after all, it is my hair, therefore my triumph, and I want everyone to know about it.
A great haircut revives a person. It makes one want to go out and grab life – it must be done to show off the hair.
I am unsure how the hairdresser who performs the great cut feels about this. Do they realise that they have made such a difference to someone’s life (even if it is just until the hair grows a bit)? Whatever they feel is of no real concern, after all, it is my hair, therefore my triumph, and I want everyone to know about it.
29.4.08
Knives and other sharp instruments
Have you ever been lying in bed trying to sleep but unable to because of dark thoughts? What is worse is that often dark thoughts like these are not thoughts at all, but rather just a feeling (so not allowing one to approach it rationally).
There are, of course, occasions when they are dark thoughts. This is when sleep is required the most, but cannot be achieved (oh, the torment). One of the worst instances of this that I can recall was when I had vision of cutting myself with a sharp instrument. Please do not be alarmed (I wish someone had said this to me at the time).
I just lay there with the image of a knife slicing across my wrist, but before the blood poured out I would shake my head and the image was temporarily removed. Minutes later it returned. The image was so strong that I had to stick my head of the window for air as I thought I would be sick. The worst part of it was that I needed the toilet, but was too afraid to enter the bathroom in case I encountered a razor. This meant having to go to the downstairs toilet, which really bothered me as I hate to walk down stairs in the dark (and do not like this toilet).
Fortunately, the trauma of having to walk down the stairs was such an interruption to the thoughts I was having about knives that I was able to fall asleep shortly after returning to bed.
Unfortunately, the same thoughts returned to me the next day, but that is the way life goes.
(At least I came to the realisation that there is a difference between real life and fantasy, albeit it an often indiscernible one).
There are, of course, occasions when they are dark thoughts. This is when sleep is required the most, but cannot be achieved (oh, the torment). One of the worst instances of this that I can recall was when I had vision of cutting myself with a sharp instrument. Please do not be alarmed (I wish someone had said this to me at the time).
I just lay there with the image of a knife slicing across my wrist, but before the blood poured out I would shake my head and the image was temporarily removed. Minutes later it returned. The image was so strong that I had to stick my head of the window for air as I thought I would be sick. The worst part of it was that I needed the toilet, but was too afraid to enter the bathroom in case I encountered a razor. This meant having to go to the downstairs toilet, which really bothered me as I hate to walk down stairs in the dark (and do not like this toilet).
Fortunately, the trauma of having to walk down the stairs was such an interruption to the thoughts I was having about knives that I was able to fall asleep shortly after returning to bed.
Unfortunately, the same thoughts returned to me the next day, but that is the way life goes.
(At least I came to the realisation that there is a difference between real life and fantasy, albeit it an often indiscernible one).
26.4.08
The Gadget Obsessive
It cannot be denied that there are occasions in life when a gadget of some sort is appealing, and can be useful (a memory stick, for example). However, I would say that generally I do not like gadgets. The gadget often creates the solution to a problem that did not exist before the gadget came into being, or else the gadget woos with its ‘state of the art’ looks and functions.
What is worse than the gadget itself is the gadget obsessive. These people lack such imagination that they must fill these voids with toys that give them a sense of fulfilment. This is, however, short-lived, and a new gadget is soon needed to fill that hunger-gap. The gadget is bought in the name of the ‘new’, but is actually the act of rejecting the new.
These obsessives also like to inform those around them of their new gadgets, giving demonstrations where possible – a tedious time for the person having to feign interest.
What is worse than the gadget itself is the gadget obsessive. These people lack such imagination that they must fill these voids with toys that give them a sense of fulfilment. This is, however, short-lived, and a new gadget is soon needed to fill that hunger-gap. The gadget is bought in the name of the ‘new’, but is actually the act of rejecting the new.
These obsessives also like to inform those around them of their new gadgets, giving demonstrations where possible – a tedious time for the person having to feign interest.
My Will
In the event of my death I would like people to pay attention to my abhorrence towards my body being placed in an expensive coffin. I would like whoever deals with this to place me in cardboard, or something similar – something with the least wastage and least expense. Do not put any of my clothes on my dead body.
In the event of my death I would like it to be acknowledged that any ‘in memorandum’ written for me is something I would not approve of. If one wishes to remember me, please do so, but do this using your own memories and thoughts of me, rather than gaining recognition from others for doing so.
In the event of my death I would like all of my possessions to be sold or go to charity, except any items family or friends wish to keep (without sentiment). Unwanted books are to be donated to libraries.
In the event of my death I would like all to know that any false ceremony (which is all ceremony) is not a response I would welcome.
In the event of my death I would like any useful body parts to be taken. My hair can be sold.
In the event of my death I would like any work I have done to be destroyed. This is not an self-congratulatory act that compares me to, say, Kafka. Rather, the destruction of any work is because of the mediocre quality. The exception to this rule would be any emails that people want to keep (as I am often told they are quite good).
In the event of my death I would like the person that killed me (if I was killed by someone) to not be blamed or punished (this has got nothing to do with Christianity).
In the event of my death I would like the person/s that killed me (if I was killed by a company or by the government) to be blamed and punished, without reserve.
In the event of my death I would like it to be acknowledged that any ‘in memorandum’ written for me is something I would not approve of. If one wishes to remember me, please do so, but do this using your own memories and thoughts of me, rather than gaining recognition from others for doing so.
In the event of my death I would like all of my possessions to be sold or go to charity, except any items family or friends wish to keep (without sentiment). Unwanted books are to be donated to libraries.
In the event of my death I would like all to know that any false ceremony (which is all ceremony) is not a response I would welcome.
In the event of my death I would like any useful body parts to be taken. My hair can be sold.
In the event of my death I would like any work I have done to be destroyed. This is not an self-congratulatory act that compares me to, say, Kafka. Rather, the destruction of any work is because of the mediocre quality. The exception to this rule would be any emails that people want to keep (as I am often told they are quite good).
In the event of my death I would like the person that killed me (if I was killed by someone) to not be blamed or punished (this has got nothing to do with Christianity).
In the event of my death I would like the person/s that killed me (if I was killed by a company or by the government) to be blamed and punished, without reserve.
The living dead and the dead living
It is true that I have always been afraid (or at least wary) of clowns. I have also never felt at ease with china dolls. When one considers the two, one can see that both the clown and the china doll actually have similar features. Both are unpleasant and can be used to scare and intimidate . I would say that the difference between them lies in their personalities, yet both personalities cause alarm.
The clown, with his crazy face and oversized and over-coloured clothes, acts with frightful enthusiasm and silliness. He also always wants to act with an element of surprise - the only result being intense fear and panic on the surprised. No-one likes surprises. The clown is never still in the presence of another human, heightening our sense of panic. I don't think horror films that have clowns in them began this fear - clowns were always to be afraid of (and always wanted to be).
The china doll also has a madness in her face and wears clothes that give it a ghost-like image. Her face has similar painting to the clowns, though slightly shinier. Her eyelids can move up and down (and we are always waiting for them to flicker). The clothes are from strange periods in history, ranging from what looks like the early eighteenth to the late nineteenth century, and always from the upper-middle classes. There is always a feeling of her coming back from the past. Or being dead, but never having died. Either way she is never from our age and is therefore always judging our present age. She has a stillness that makes us quiver. My great aunt used to have lots of china dolls in her house (only great aunts do) - at any moment they could have come alive (at night they surely did). The gaze is cold and dead, which is how you will end up if one of these dolls gets their way.
The clown intimidates with his chaotic personality, the china doll with her cool, watchful personality. Both have some kind of angry mental disorder and are truly psychotic. As an informed man once said to me, "they [clowns and china dolls] are two sides of the same coin." The clown should be dead yet is alive, and the china doll is dead but should be alive. The clown is the appalling reality of an inanimate thing come to life, the doll the appalling reality of the living thing petrified. That is enough to frighten the toughest of humans.
My relationship to nature is at a distance
My relationship to nature is at a distance, particuarly with things that grow, such as plants.
I have never felt at one with nature. What's more, I do not think this is ever possible. I think, in fact, that I fear nature, or, rather, the possibility of contact with nature (even though I believe this is never possible). Perhaps it is also because I live in the city. In the city there are some trees, parks, flower-beds (usually cordoned off to prevent contact with the public), but generally there is a lack of nature, and an overabundance of concrete. this may be a contributing factor to my inability to relate to nature. I cannot touch an insect, I cannot sit on the grass, I cannot have trees towering over me. I can't even pick up a leaf. This is a sickness of modern times that I am unwilling to try to cure (an altogether other sickness). At the same time, I would say that those who believe that they have crossed the boundary line of the natural world are deluded, and slightly arrogant.
One of the most uncomfortable things I have ever seen is an advert for a moisturizing cream, which took as its subject a dry autumn leaf, and 'cured' this by putting the said moisturizer on it. The image on screen was then one of a very soft leaf that still had youth on its side
When it comes to rocks I am also fearful. They are so strong and sturdy, that even the strongest waves smack against them without causing the slightest damage. Who could stand up to that? Not that I long for a confrontation with the rock - I just don't want to get involved.
The expression of someone being a "rock" is meant to be one that is applied to a person who is strong during difficulties, doesn't weep during another's sad time but lets waves of tears of the other crash against them. What about the cold, unmoving, unaffected side of the "rock"? This is the problem when humans try to apply nature to themselves - all kinds of difficulties arise.
The fear of the sea is so obvious there is no point in discussing it.
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