Saturday, June 23, 2012
This dispatch comes to you from far away, deep in the interior. I'm in the rain forest, where it's always cool and wet, in a gingerbread house full of living things -- dogs, cats, birds, plants, worms, intestinal microorganisms, humans.
It's like living in a dream, being in this place, dreaming of a better world, one that's at peace with itself, and men and women work together in the green fields with dignity, for the laborer is worth her or his hire.
I suppose I could wake up and escape -- if I wanted to, but where would I go then? Back to the city? The city is a racetrack; its narrow streets crowded with noisy vehicles rushing about aimlessly, full of concrete, asphalt, glass, and steel. I've had enough of the urban dream-crusher.
A better world begins with a dream.