Civilisation is a rolling swarm. The small are clustered together, driving forward, pretending to be greater than they are. The ‘self’ is cannibalised by ‘self’ as part of the ever evolving, ever moving narrative. The ‘other’ is consumed or is left to float away or is the enemy. We slip on skins of ‘our-selves’, depending on the weather. On Mondays, we wear black suits. On Fundays we wear blue jeans and white shoes. Do not worry, they cannot see that you are wearing odd socks: they cannot hear your thoughts.
Rolling Swarm
Civilisation is a rolling swarm. The small are clustered together, driving forward, pretending to be greater than they are. The ‘self’ is cannibalised by ‘self’ as part of the ever evolving, ever moving narrative. The ‘other’ is consumed or is left to float away or is the enemy. We slip on skins of ‘our-selves’, depending on the weather. On Mondays, we wear black suits. On Fundays we wear blue jeans and white shoes. Do not worry, they cannot see that you are wearing odd socks: they cannot hear your thoughts.
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