Driving fast through a quiet town at dawn. Summer light just breaking. It’s 6am, and everyone is safely couped up in their houses. Streets lined with cloned, neatly arranged buildings—a portrait of order.
Society has shaped the human race into something uniform. We all seek shelter from the elements. We all need a place to live. We gather in clusters, tribes, territories. And when it comes to protecting those—our families, our friends, our towns, our football teams, our beliefs—we get defensive.
It’s tribal.
All of it.
We group by religion, nationality, music taste, football allegiance, even political stance. Punk rockers. Catholics. Protestants. Leave. Remain. Fellow countrymen. Fellow outsiders. It’s the same primal instinct dressed up in modern clothes.
We squabble. We divide. We defend.
It’s always been this way.
Brexit? Just another modern tribal fight.
The question isn’t “Which side are you on?”
The question is “Why are there sides at all?”
“Who needs countries anyway?”
We go to war for land. For energy. For flags and anthems and invisible lines on maps.
FUCK THE HUMAN RACE.
Meanwhile, in the middle of this existential unraveling...
The dripping shower (#2) in my Airbnb is nearly dead.
Author’s Note:
This entry was pulled from a real-time scribble in a notebook, fueled by too little sleep and too much thinking. I don’t have the answers—but maybe questioning the shape of the world is a good start.
No comments:
Post a Comment