Let me context you.

Yesterday I was in front of a group of people who could hardly care less about the misinterpretations that make me me. Don't think I'm going soft, I'm used to this, the difference is that with this particular group I'm forced to act like there are bonds beyond affection, when there's really only boredom and avoidance. But anyway, it was time to pretend.

So we drank expensive wine, held our glasses up high and celebrated the presumptuous clique. Bossa nova and a mix of this-month-hits was heard in the background while the most snob (pretteh!) decoration surrounded us. And everyone there had this self-assurance that this was it, being at the peak of upper-middle class social ladder, having disposable income, dining at the best place in town, chatting about the most trivial of subjects and managing to include some -culture- so to feel educated.

It was as if we were all apes, eating each other's fleas while we pretended to be something else. But the sole act of pretending made the hoax so very obvious, me, there, having the time of my life, I saw and laughed upon the fact that we were just naked apes trying too hard to wear suits and monocles. It was really rather pathetic, and amusing.

But then I went back home, to the forest.

There I worked from early in the mourning, knocking down burned trees to leave place for new ones. Every act of creation is first an act of destruction. Then there was some new tree pruning so they would grow up right, and some soil daming to contain erosion. There was not much thinking about it, let alone complex socializing or abstraction of social structures as in the previous episode.

There, no structures were set upon, it was just us working. And I agree, trained monkeys could have been able to do it (maybe better). But there was something about knowing we didn't have to pretend, something about being at work inside nature that made sense, something about our essence that actually made me feel more human. Whatever that means.