Sunday

sunday mourning

for more sleep.

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walking, walking, always walking. yet never seeming to get anywhere, why then do i walk? am i trying to scape from something, someone, something? why would i know? should i know? still always walking, walking, walking.
i think of morality but why? why do i always think of morality? why do i believe in a universal truth that we have to find? how do we even find a universal truth? would i recognise a universal truth? how would i prove it was a universal truth? would people belive it was a universal truth/? would i be the next copernicus?
looking around all we see is humanity failing, failing and yet not trying to fix itself? is humanity trying to finish itself? have we reached the end of the experiment? have we reached the final logical conclusion. is our universal morality finally going to remove our threat to the world. will we then finally able to be free. within our destruction comes our final realisation that we were an evolutionary dead end, an end that evolution should never have gone down. a branch that can kill the whole, seeded from the tree, a kind of suicide branch. a tree trying to rememdy it’s mistake. cutting us off from the rest of evolution and allowing us to wither and die but in our withering and dying we could possibly take the whole tree, does the tree allow us to take some other branches and leaves with us so as to be able to save the rest of the tree. the tree of life is worried.
the tree of life appears in so many religions and thoughts, that we must have already realised that the tree of life is the ultimate truth, the ultimate morality, whilst also telling us nothing of morality, other than we are just a branch of it. we are all interconnected. the Bodhi tree grows the 3000 year peach and then it drops and the seeds give us Yggdrasil. the original sin was that the peach may have been an apple? did the apple know it should have been a peach, did the peach know it should have been an apple. did either fruit wish it was the other fruit?
we destroy fruit, we kill off the bees. with no bees we will have no fruit, no tree of life. the tree will wither and die or will it just allow us to die in order to save the heart? will our branch wither and blacken? become a husk of what it once was? a permament marker to the evolutionary dead end that the tree should never have branched down? the branch will it fall off in the winter that follows our end, will the next spring be filled full of hope and new life. will the new life wonder about the wither branch?
the withered branch will be the permament reminder of the dangers of humanity. a species that was so endeared to itself that it forgot all about the tree of life, forgot that it had a place in evolution, forgot it was a part of a bigger picture, forgot that it wasn’t an anthrocentric model of life.