So, it was foggy today in Mountarmstrong, Co. Kildare...
I got up and just looked dreamingly out the window for about five minutes before throwing on a t-shirt, jeans and trainers. I slowly opened the door, stepped outside and walked down the steps that bring to the field. Grey swirls of dense fog engulfed me. I stretched my hand before me and almost couldn 't see the tip of my fingers.
Fuck it, I thought.
I stripped and flung my clothes somewhere behind me, then gingerly stepped out of my sneakers. I just stood there, naked, breathing deeply. It was like being lost in another dimension, all I could see was grey surrounding me. I closed my eyes and deeply inhaled the damp, refreshing scent of dew and mist.
I don 't think I ever felt so alive... Condensation was forming on my legs and beard, the damp started rolling off my chilled skin in long, wet tears. And I just stood there. The occasional song of an unseen bird. The distant bark of a dog. The morning air in my lungs. The wet grass beneath my feet. And silence. I opened my eyes again and looked skywards: not that it was visible, mind you, but with my head hung backwards I felt more relaxed.
It was cold but I didn 't care: a hot shower and some tea would take care of that later. For now I was just at peace.
With myself, with the world, with nature. I fell to my knees and slumped face first to the ground: the shock of cold grass blades against my shivering body startled me, but again, I didn 't care.
For a moment I reminisced about how in the scouts, at 18, we used to rub our eyes and faces with dew in the morning if there where no streams near by.
I smiled at those memories.
At what point did our society change so much that if somebody where to see me lying there, they would probably call me crazy? At what point did our concept of freedom morph into that of money and power? Or public image, for that matter? At what point did we become the slaves of society, rather than its masters?
I rolled over and stared at the sky agin, arms stretched far to my sides, like some sort of lost crucifix.
I could 'nt see it. I could 'nt see my tiny shack either. I was tempted to just lie there and enjoy the natural silence and peace for as long as I could bare the cold, but no. Society calls, survival beckons.
Time to go to work, again.
I got up and just looked dreamingly out the window for about five minutes before throwing on a t-shirt, jeans and trainers. I slowly opened the door, stepped outside and walked down the steps that bring to the field. Grey swirls of dense fog engulfed me. I stretched my hand before me and almost couldn 't see the tip of my fingers.
Fuck it, I thought.
I stripped and flung my clothes somewhere behind me, then gingerly stepped out of my sneakers. I just stood there, naked, breathing deeply. It was like being lost in another dimension, all I could see was grey surrounding me. I closed my eyes and deeply inhaled the damp, refreshing scent of dew and mist.
I don 't think I ever felt so alive... Condensation was forming on my legs and beard, the damp started rolling off my chilled skin in long, wet tears. And I just stood there. The occasional song of an unseen bird. The distant bark of a dog. The morning air in my lungs. The wet grass beneath my feet. And silence. I opened my eyes again and looked skywards: not that it was visible, mind you, but with my head hung backwards I felt more relaxed.
It was cold but I didn 't care: a hot shower and some tea would take care of that later. For now I was just at peace.
With myself, with the world, with nature. I fell to my knees and slumped face first to the ground: the shock of cold grass blades against my shivering body startled me, but again, I didn 't care.
For a moment I reminisced about how in the scouts, at 18, we used to rub our eyes and faces with dew in the morning if there where no streams near by.
I smiled at those memories.
At what point did our society change so much that if somebody where to see me lying there, they would probably call me crazy? At what point did our concept of freedom morph into that of money and power? Or public image, for that matter? At what point did we become the slaves of society, rather than its masters?
I rolled over and stared at the sky agin, arms stretched far to my sides, like some sort of lost crucifix.
I could 'nt see it. I could 'nt see my tiny shack either. I was tempted to just lie there and enjoy the natural silence and peace for as long as I could bare the cold, but no. Society calls, survival beckons.
Time to go to work, again.
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i am studying philosophy/political science, but moving toward a communications major in may that'll have me focusing in media ethics.
what a wonderful way to start the morning.