Monday, May 17, 2010

The world: a place in which we humans inhabit; a vast space - initially as naked and as pure as the way in which we imagine the other glowing, distant planets. It is a silent place that speaks only in its shaking ground, tearing winds and growths. It is silent enough to let us manipulate it. So we have carved into and reaped from its belly and have become just as much a part of it as the sun that bleeds through it, and the darkness that penetrates. In possessing the world in our minds, we can forget that the world is first a very small place called Earth. The Earth is not the world. The world is a word so vast that it rises from the mouth and never descends to give a grounded answer. It is word that meanders about, that audaciously stretches and thickens until it shrinks and coils. It is always in search for an answer that is as big as itself. But it won't ever find it. Because the world - and the notion to know it - is a human concept. It is something concocted by the bubbly, hyperactive human mind. It is formless and floating. But we hold it and define it and call it dear.

The Earth is physically separate from and exterior to us, but the world has become a part of us. To know the world is to bloom and widen your senses. To reach out as far as you can with your body. You have to touch the world, see it, taste it and swallow it in order to know it. I do not know it. There are voices echoing everywhere right now. There are countless creatures pumping blood under water. Tears are currently collecting. Legs and legs are jerking to orgasms and someone is miserably poor. Something is being born. The world is never something whole. It is a vision that, once attained, is born bursting, and then splits and shatters.

But the Earth is physically something whole, rising, swelling with forms, with no boundaries, free with an air where everything can fit. It is plush and thick and living. But we, the knowledgeable we, are breaking it, thinning it, squeezing its juices as if we were crushing a sprouting flower, in order to make the earth our World. The World is a map - a place of boundaries, of countries, of stains across a globe. And so, sadly, this World is "us".

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