(no subject)
Civilization as we know it today is slowly in retrograde. We as a people are bloodthirsty and completely unapologetic concerning that. We crave impact, effect before cause. We crave fast sex and hard violence in excess. It's completely primal to exist this way. Prehistoric man had no regard for the world surrounding him, no concern for his fellow man. Freedom in America seems to have led us to a peak and into backward mobility. Los Angeles in all its glamour and prestige has become a feeding frenzy of dog eat dog career politics that are no different than rows of teeth tearing apart the flesh of dinosaurs in battle. Really, what sets us apart from that?
An article on aboriginal history in northwestern Australia piqued my interest in something commonly regarded as 'primitive culture'. On a second trip to Australia in the past year I decided to try and witness for myself life as they know it. William and I packed up a mutual friend's jeep and took a trip into the unknown, deep into the outback. City life leaves one so desensitized to anything other than city life. We all become robotic caricatures of humanity as our lives become more about simplification and less about inherent nature. Why go get the goods when the goods can be delivered to you? You'd never realize that there are people living outside of technology, living solely of and for nature.
We spent a few days camping just outside of tribal land, taking daily hikes in with a city-living friend of these indigenous people, a linguist and translator who let them know we meant no harm. In a community that wore little to no clothing despite the blazing sun pouring down for extended hours of the day, it felt really alien applying a sunscreen to keep my skin from baking crisp, though not at all uncomfortable shedding each piece of clothing so that same skin would glow golden in the sunlight. As spermatophobic and obsessive compulsive as I can be under normal circumstances, refusing to bathe for a whole two days was remarkably not as problematic as I'd imagined. Life in the outback was about sacrifice and respect and honor above all else.
We'd intended to stay longer than we did, but an unfortunate death within the tribe left us feeling far too intrusive upon lives we weren't meant to ever touch. Ritualistic behavior practiced for centuries led the men and women of the tribe to throw themselves to to ground shortly after the tribeman's death, crying out and striking themselves over the head with stones, some going as far as drawing blood. These acts made me heavily contemplate my indifference and reservations. Pain is obvious in these people's actions. They don't have to feign strength for survival. What it comes down to is they aren't bullshitting themselves when it comes to the things they feel or why they feel it. Apathy keeps things stagnant while we think they're moving along. We're lying to ourselves. On the jeepride back to the city, I tried to think of the last time I cried the way I meant it, laughed as a true expression of my happiness.
I'm back in Los Angeles and my biggest fear is forgetting I'm alive at all.
An article on aboriginal history in northwestern Australia piqued my interest in something commonly regarded as 'primitive culture'. On a second trip to Australia in the past year I decided to try and witness for myself life as they know it. William and I packed up a mutual friend's jeep and took a trip into the unknown, deep into the outback. City life leaves one so desensitized to anything other than city life. We all become robotic caricatures of humanity as our lives become more about simplification and less about inherent nature. Why go get the goods when the goods can be delivered to you? You'd never realize that there are people living outside of technology, living solely of and for nature.
We spent a few days camping just outside of tribal land, taking daily hikes in with a city-living friend of these indigenous people, a linguist and translator who let them know we meant no harm. In a community that wore little to no clothing despite the blazing sun pouring down for extended hours of the day, it felt really alien applying a sunscreen to keep my skin from baking crisp, though not at all uncomfortable shedding each piece of clothing so that same skin would glow golden in the sunlight. As spermatophobic and obsessive compulsive as I can be under normal circumstances, refusing to bathe for a whole two days was remarkably not as problematic as I'd imagined. Life in the outback was about sacrifice and respect and honor above all else.
We'd intended to stay longer than we did, but an unfortunate death within the tribe left us feeling far too intrusive upon lives we weren't meant to ever touch. Ritualistic behavior practiced for centuries led the men and women of the tribe to throw themselves to to ground shortly after the tribeman's death, crying out and striking themselves over the head with stones, some going as far as drawing blood. These acts made me heavily contemplate my indifference and reservations. Pain is obvious in these people's actions. They don't have to feign strength for survival. What it comes down to is they aren't bullshitting themselves when it comes to the things they feel or why they feel it. Apathy keeps things stagnant while we think they're moving along. We're lying to ourselves. On the jeepride back to the city, I tried to think of the last time I cried the way I meant it, laughed as a true expression of my happiness.
I'm back in Los Angeles and my biggest fear is forgetting I'm alive at all.