A letter to the environment
I’ve always wondered if selfishness was something humans could never have enough of. I am selfish. You probably are too. Scratch that. You definitely are. It is our inability to think of anything but ourselves, our survival instinct, that defines the human experience. We are indifferent to all the little creatures that have blessed our world. Every single one of them has felt the strain of damage we are leaving behind. We have created a vicious cycle, where we take but never give.
“I did nothing,” we will one day utter to defend ourselves. But that is exactly the problem. We stood by and did nothing. The excuse is more bitter than the crime. One day we will look back and think, when did it all go so wrong? At no point did I have the intention of destruction, but I was always destructing.
I ended beauty to light a city. But the city vanishes, and beauty vanishes, and I remain.
Gone is the unspoken promise that held us together. We no longer are a whole, instead separate parts of a no longer functioning body. We drifted so far apart that we made it impossible to come back. To reunite.
You now long for than one rainy day you cursed because you missed your bus, or that one hiking trip you canceled because your outfit wasn’t complete.
You long for the trees you so mistakenly under appreciated.
You long for the desert that you thought wasn’t very beautiful.
You long for the green and the blue and the yellow.
You long for a break from all the grey.
You hope that somewhere someday there will be another chance. A chance to right our wrongs. As you stand gazing down the deep abyss, you start to feel shackled by the weight of your mistakes, engulfed by one emotion only. Not regret, but nostalgia. For what was, and what could have been.