2005-04-11 - 11:00 p.m.
Trees remind us of what life is. These things that grow around us in our society are so unnatural but we have become so accustommed to them, that we forget where we came from, what really should be sticking out of the ground instead of skyscrapings and road signs. Life is only on the inside, and it is occasional, just enough to keep this thing going until the next phase. In the winter, sometimes parts of the tree don't make it. They just don't. None of these replacements should be making it. They are old and cracked and there is no sap for the cracks. No photosynthesis. There is no water in the soil. Just dust from cars and airplanes. Just dust. We plug into the sides of these replacement and suck from the endless aquaduct. All this dead material around us to remind us of how much we love to live with replacements of what came first. Of the natural mobiles. The natural furniture. The natural soda and computer and compressor. These things have always existed, in essence. I cannot wait until all these blasted trees are gone. I cannot see the distillation plant from where I sit this evening, all those damn trees blocking my view of it's supreme design. I cannot wait until I am surrounded by the superior trees, with mechanical branches and explosive fruits. I expect only the best chemical syrups and autumn fumes. I can't wait for the winter, where is is harder to tell the difference again.
