Neoplasm
Cancer is a malady defined by unrestrained growth.
Clearly as we expand and duplicate as a people we have a broader base and add more ways to nurture our oddest, perhaps perfected companion.
Is it our balance? Our punishment? Certainly cancer existed before us but we have found new methods of invitation. Of production. New limiting factors to our brashness.
Have we linked ourselves to that which so efficiently unlinks us from this world?
Are we so perfectly compatible with that which is so barely combatable?
Is that what encourages us to be meek?
It's so precisely tailored to reflect our greatest abilities in the most horrific ways.
Reduction by multiplication.
Destruction by creation.
Certainly it isn't a purely human condition. The others fortunate or unfortunate enough to be around us sprout this seed too.
But no parrot turns plants into poisons.
No anemone arrays asbestos.
No snail shapes shells of uranium.
No friend fades willfully.
Is our own enterprise our expenditure? Do we scorch something inside us as we strive for more? It is a beautiful fulcrum if that's the case. It's a dark partnership.
Because humanity is a malady defined by unrestrained growth.
We are so crushed, so caught by the perpetuity of problems which keep us from what we want. We are caged and yet beautified by the limitations of lifespan. We are in a way encouraged to spread and to corrupt. To leave our mark and some hardened, irremovable trace within one another.
Do we bleed blindly and bountifully until we're struck down by our own outreach?
Do we cast our call crashingly until curtailed?
Do we invite our end with uncontrollable division?
Do we kill ourselves?
Clearly as we expand and duplicate as a people we have a broader base and add more ways to nurture our oddest, perhaps perfected companion.
Is it our balance? Our punishment? Certainly cancer existed before us but we have found new methods of invitation. Of production. New limiting factors to our brashness.
Have we linked ourselves to that which so efficiently unlinks us from this world?
Are we so perfectly compatible with that which is so barely combatable?
Is that what encourages us to be meek?
It's so precisely tailored to reflect our greatest abilities in the most horrific ways.
Reduction by multiplication.
Destruction by creation.
Certainly it isn't a purely human condition. The others fortunate or unfortunate enough to be around us sprout this seed too.
But no parrot turns plants into poisons.
No anemone arrays asbestos.
No snail shapes shells of uranium.
No friend fades willfully.
Is our own enterprise our expenditure? Do we scorch something inside us as we strive for more? It is a beautiful fulcrum if that's the case. It's a dark partnership.
Because humanity is a malady defined by unrestrained growth.
We are so crushed, so caught by the perpetuity of problems which keep us from what we want. We are caged and yet beautified by the limitations of lifespan. We are in a way encouraged to spread and to corrupt. To leave our mark and some hardened, irremovable trace within one another.
Do we bleed blindly and bountifully until we're struck down by our own outreach?
Do we cast our call crashingly until curtailed?
Do we invite our end with uncontrollable division?
Do we kill ourselves?