The Vigilante Gardener
Wednesday, September 28th, 2011
Most people waste their lives collecting commodities and idling as if that’s all there is to life. But life is much more complicated, more faceted. Having a mass of body parts doesn’t make a person – there is animation in it, electricity. The house, family, school, job, obligations – those are just insignificant particulars. Those meaningless things disappear eventually into dust. But a real spark – a bud on the edge of destruction – could flicker into nothingness in an instant. The fragile energy of the spark is what life truly is. It is beautiful and sad and perpetually now, existing exclusively in the present. Life is something only the creative soul with its beating heart can embrace.
Jake spent his youth unwittingly searching for a spark. He saw through the veils and understood that titles and possessions weren’t a life. He had foresworn material culture and rebelled against it. His existence was one flask-of-Jack, punk-rock, cigarette-burning-before-it-faded-away moment at a time. Like many in his generation, he lacked the mental programming for hope and future thought. Instead of simply abandoning the old, pointless rules and rituals of his parents, he disowned those of his generation as well. Like many of his peers who understood even a little, he spiraled into apathy.
Most people waste their lives collecting commodities and idling as if that’s all there is to life. But life is much more complicated, more faceted. Having a mass of body parts doesn’t make a person – there is animation in it, electricity. The house, family, school, job, obligations – those are just insignificant particulars. Those meaningless things disappear eventually into dust. But a real spark – a bud on the edge of destruction – could flicker into nothingness in an instant. The fragile energy of the spark is what life truly is. It is beautiful and sad and perpetually now, existing exclusively in the present. Life is something only the creative soul with its beating heart can embrace.
Jake spent his youth unwittingly searching for a spark. He saw through the veils and understood that titles and possessions weren’t a life. He had foresworn material culture and rebelled against it. His existence was one flask-of-Jack, punk-rock, cigarette-burning-before-it-faded-away moment at a time. Like many in his generation, he lacked the mental programming for hope and future thought. Instead of simply abandoning the old, pointless rules and rituals of his parents, he disowned those of his generation as well. Like many of his peers who understood even a little, he spiraled into apathy.
