Every morning the same sun greets me. Every morning for a moment world stands still. And every morning I am one day older. There are days where the grass is very green, and the skies are very blue, there are days where everything emerges in the grey undertones. These days my mind wonders what is there left out of this world when all I can see is a broken concrete and burned ground?

There is this term used for clay, luckily it can also describe a colour – terracotta. So most of the days my reality is submerged in the shade of terracotta. The reality or more precisely an illusion of it is burned in the fire, a beautiful creation, yet fragile. One drop and that creation break as Qin Shi Huang’s sculpture soldiers. And all that is left is uneven pieces of burned clay. It seems that just recently, I finally started paying attention to the raw clay.
Clay still feels very remote. It is so familiar, yet alien. How can something be so familiar and alien at the same time? Perhaps, it is even worth asking more how one can hurt another physical being who cannot even fight back or run somewhere to safety? There is a never-ending row of how’s. Unanswerable, yet necessary to be asked.

Honestly, everything sometimes feels so remote. People passing, people talking, news – are just seems to be fragments of blurry images delivered by well-dressed people talking about things which feel so far away, almost like I and them live in two different realities.

We record countless irrelevant details – an outstanding example of this is how we report Trump, we report without asking what impact that reported action brings, does it matter what his hair looked strange or he tweeted something so unimportant that everybody will forget that with the new news cycle. We make the white noise, and we drown what is essential. We will space with countless, endless words which often mean nothing change nothing, and we believe them. I guess it is our new religion.

We trust words, and we ignore the actions. The scandal can be fixed by brilliant PR teams even though the outcomes or actions does not change. Starbucks new straw policy does not make plastic waste lower, it is not the solution to the problem. Yet, who cares it can become in this world driven reality? We need to wake up, to see past all that noise. And we try. We all try so hard. Unfortunately, it is almost always too late. We are in too deep.
We lost our ability to say I don’t understand or stand out and walk out the play just not to be frowned upon. Perhaps, we should admit some hard truths – we won’t reverse global warming, and it is likely with years everything is going to get worse. Collective action is not possible. Not with political leaders of today. We are not going stop massive surveillance, or make our personal data private on the internet, we in too deep and it is way too late. Perhaps, it is time to stop talking about things, which happened as a potential danger and start finding solutions, yet not how to prevent it – how to minimise it.

I am tired of seeing people discussing how to be great parents, reading all those books, attending all those conferences and spending just five minutes of their day with the child in question. I am tired of social class difference and how we look at people who have better or worse education or wealth than us.

We are oblivious as it is more comfortable. We are always in the system of being indoctrinated. We have not yet evolved a system which is not a system of indoctrination. Unfortunately, it seems it is the best we can do. We being though is an amalgam of current prejudice and the choices of this particular culture… The slightest look at history shows how impermanent this must be. The reality is – we are being thought by the people who were able to accommodate themselves to the regime of thought laid down by their predecessors.

Those who are different more robust than others are encouraged to leave and educate their own judgments, and those who stay must remember they were modelled and patterned to fit into a narrow and particular need of a particular society. How scary it is. It is a perfect closed-ended system without any obvious solutions.

I remember a couple weeks back lying in this all white futurist machine while their putting ink in my veins and all I could think how noisy it was. Life, as I knew, had ended. Yet, lying still for an hour in a tiny space surrounded by the noise, I could never describe – as it sometimes felt it was swallowing me all – I was not thinking about humanity – or how perhaps I could be a better part of it. Or the things I haven’t achieved – I talked about my dog, and about how I can’t wait to see Whales and climb Taebaeksan. I never once asked myself what meaning of life was, I always wanted to know in all those philosophically induced conversations we had with a couple of glasses of wine. I didn’t care. Perhaps, that is so human we don’t need answers, we need to ask questions, to wonder instead of doing. Probably, that is the root of all problems.

I hope I can wonder less and live more. As I can never imagine finding the answer to so many how’s, I asked in my life as they cannot be tested, tried and defined. Perhaps, they shouldn’t. I am happy to know what I will never be able to put into words what happiness and sadness are. I hope most of us feel it the similar manner. I am happy that I will be able to experience it. Perhaps, there is nothing more beautiful than an ability to feel. And maybe just maybe the world without a feeling, is the only world not worth living.