While attempting to clean my hard drive and sort through old writing and whatnot I came upon the piece I coupled with my Photo II independent study project. The photos explore the extreme impact technology is having on our natural world, and more specificially our American souls. The author shall remain nameless unless otherwise requested, though his prose was/still is greatly appreciated:

Half-ghost, Half-Earth
The delicious torment that is life, steeped in paradox and rhythmic like the flows of jazz is no more than a fleeting conscious glimpse of the ephemeral beauties and all their privies. The human; no line between the inside and outside, no boundary between the self and that of breezes, suns, rivers, spruce trees and mountains, no line between the absolute infinite and the sorrowful temporary- a culmination of facets and conditions and energies and matter and metaphysical forces, flowing and fluxing, all part of sacred link in the unbroken chain of illuminated life in which the perfect conscious source manifests itself through all phenomena. We live in two worlds, but are rarely aware of that which sits just beyond our minds: we are the source, the force, the infinitely serene and the imprisoned human, born into the dream of life where we struggle and long and feel and love and fuck and wonder and only seldom glimpse the immense suchness. Like a transparent stream of energy, we are the conscious eye of the godhead, the universe, witnessing itself in the constant becoming; birth, death and time all essential but irrelevant. The passage of time simply being the mind’s perception of cause and effect, an infinite regress not characterized through the individual but rather through the chain of life which acts as a single unified mother earth-mind. There is only one moment and it is right now, time, like a dream is ethereal. With one foot in this world and the other foot in the next, we all share the same dreamtime, we walk the same dreamtime. Its just a dream and its sad and somehow beautiful but we hold on to it anyways. Show me something real, something concrete, something stable and lasting, I want to scream sometimes… but alas, nothing in this dream is anymore real than any other dream you ever had. Maybe that gives you comfort to know we are hopelessly inconsequential in this void, maybe its comforting to know there is so much more beyond… or maybe its scary, terrifying even, to realize that our solid little microcosms of reason and stability mean almost nothing. Fuck that, it is liberating to walk this earth and know I’m not important- monkey with a brain. I can dig. Embrace the chaos? Perhaps. The illusion of a separate self is the price the human must pay to be alive. Maybe even aware of the rules, but still subject to them, everyone must play a role in this comedic tragedy.