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The Cultural Tides of Change
Historically all things repeat themselves.

 
It is a curious thing indeed to live. We experience the rise and fall of ourselves, values, life and loves. All things run around in circles all the things we grew to love die.
 
Egypt and its glory fell eventually, being nothing but a blip in the history of the world, then Greece and then finally Rome followed in its wake. Now the west in modern times is in decline, and will no doubt fall, as all things do.
 
It is easy to see life, civilization and our efforts as a petty striving for wisps of smoke.
 
Culture grows dies, morphs and so on ad infinitude. Is it not tiresome?
 
Walking through the British museum one can’t help but feel s sense of doom brought about by the inexorable and infallible march of time and the chaos, confusion and suffering experienced from it. Humanity has been nothing, it seems, but a tool, of genetic design and purpose, to evolve, strive, change and suffer through the endless changes against itself, environment and others. And for what? To do it all over again. And again.
 
A brief few moments on modern-day social media or news sites is a great indicator of the fallible, flawed and petty natures of humanity. How ignorance and incessant noise never changes. How lacking in humility and education, even with an education, we are and without education of life the tides of history repeat.
 
We plod on with our small voices pleading to be heard. Made loud by tools and community. Hoping we this time, might somehow reach something or somewhere worth reaching, in vain.
 
All civilization rose and fell like clockwork and sands in the winds of eternity. Made small and insignificant by our star, which in turn is made minuscule by other stars and our galaxy and so on. One day far into the future our striving and narcissistic striving for significance will be turned to dust by the expansion of our star as we are finally enveloped and exonerated into ourselves once more, finally, blissfully free.
 
 
Why worry,
Our parents, 
nothing but,
propagation of,
genetic material,
passed down,
to us
 
Your siblings,
mere marks of sand
on winds of time,
life,
an echo or,
a daydream,
of a giant.
 
Water, our,
metaphysical meaning,
Hope,
an inexorable march. 
and,
a joyful sense,
of feeling.

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