well, more accurately, felt yesterday.
as I was riding the BART, I happened to look over at the tall business buildings in Oakland. It suddenly occurred to me that everything single one of those black boxes represented at least one office with one person. Some windows were multiple people.
and as the train raced by house after house, window after window, I - who sat peering out of one of those small black boxes of many black boxes - felt so utterly small.
how is it that we forget so often how insignificant we are?
perhaps it's due to a person's singular ability to be so completely selfish.
it's not as if we don't know that there are billions of other people out there. it's not as if we don't realize that there are other people who matter. but often, it's the people we know that matters. it's the people we directly see in school and work that are out there. sure, we know that we a part of a mass, but it's a mass that we are of, the mass I am in.
when my church group went to a lake for the summer, it was massive. like, super huge. and we're just driving past it. that lake, on which I am just barely a dot, is not even a dot drawn on map of California on the rock called Earth, also which - in the grand scheme of the universe - is not even a speck.
on a completely unrelated note (or is it?) to end this slightly depressing and emo thought,
I wish there was a paint splatter function on photoshop. it'd be cool if the splatters were random like it would actually be if you dumped a can of paint on a canvas multiple times. but wouldn't it be ironic to program something like that? to program something to be random? programming chaos?
as I was riding the BART, I happened to look over at the tall business buildings in Oakland. It suddenly occurred to me that everything single one of those black boxes represented at least one office with one person. Some windows were multiple people.
and as the train raced by house after house, window after window, I - who sat peering out of one of those small black boxes of many black boxes - felt so utterly small.
how is it that we forget so often how insignificant we are?
perhaps it's due to a person's singular ability to be so completely selfish.
it's not as if we don't know that there are billions of other people out there. it's not as if we don't realize that there are other people who matter. but often, it's the people we know that matters. it's the people we directly see in school and work that are out there. sure, we know that we a part of a mass, but it's a mass that we are of, the mass I am in.
when my church group went to a lake for the summer, it was massive. like, super huge. and we're just driving past it. that lake, on which I am just barely a dot, is not even a dot drawn on map of California on the rock called Earth, also which - in the grand scheme of the universe - is not even a speck.
on a completely unrelated note (or is it?) to end this slightly depressing and emo thought,
I wish there was a paint splatter function on photoshop. it'd be cool if the splatters were random like it would actually be if you dumped a can of paint on a canvas multiple times. but wouldn't it be ironic to program something like that? to program something to be random? programming chaos?
1 comment:
dunno about photoshop but wasn't there that site that Leslie showed to us (maybe andy warhol ish?) and if you clicked on the white page it just did a bunch of different colored paint splatters? i wonder what site that was...
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