the civilisation hasnt gotten here yet

Liberty

The right to see...

To see the small pieces of the puzzle of nature that is around us. To not be interrupted by anything other than the other puzzle pieces.

To breathe the air that makes you feel tranquil. Be it mountains or the forest or the sea... or maybe even the desert. You not only see them, you breathe them.

To hear every little movement around you, millions of minuscule particles of sand interacting with one another, leaves flailing around in the air, animals from big to almost invisible performing their own routines.

And to combine all three of these feelings and others into one perfect symphony of constantly meditating nature, that is beautiful even when it's scary.

The music

Life in a big city, where the hours of tranquil nature are replaced with seconds of human interactions weighed by a burden of hurry and lack of time. Development is revolutionary, because the 5-6 free hours one has in a given day are limited.

The sheer numbers of people to see... meetings with friends become similar to appointments, no different from going to the dentist.

Connections are viewed as beneficial opportunities, not as a natural reality of discovering another alive soul.

Here the only alive thing is music, performed at a jazz or a blues bar somewhere in a basement. All the players are like the wind, the leaves, the grass and the trees...

They play not music for a corporation, but a sound interpretation of souls intertwining, connecting and creating a new feeling.

Their mistakes are natural and beautiful, their eyes interlock and every time that happens it feels like a new star has been born. Tempo intensifies, reaching the peak...

When suddenly everyone but the drummer stops playing. Everyone is focused on him. The conversations get quiet. He starts slow and quiet, his solo pulling the strings of attention of even the busy bartender crafting another Negroni.

The drummer is looking everywhere and nowhere at the same time. His eyes see the sounds that he is yet to have created. As he is about to reach the peak as he looks at the other band members...

They look at him...

A star is born...

As he reaches the peak a bass and a piano enter the show once again and it all slows down again. It is truly alike to observing the nature of this world.

A man in a hurry

He walks into the basement. His eyes are obviously focused on the remnants of an ending day, the troubles he was brought. He is dressed well, but his posture became frail after such a busy day.

After a second of realising where he is he waddles over to the bar. His order is something that he himself wouldn't remember. And does it really matter what he is going to drink? He looks emptily at the bartender shaking the drink before pouring it into a glass for him.

He takes a gulp. The alcohol burns his tongue, then throat, then his insides. He licks his dried lips and they burn too.

"Hm"

He takes a deep breath and looks at the band. Now is not the time yet... Now is not the time.

He takes a sip, takes a deep breath. Suddenly he is no longer at a bar. The band playing in the corner pulled his strings. He takes a seat on the couch, the drink still in his hand.

The only light that hits him is a small red lamp above him. But the simple, beautiful love of the band playing in the corner... Maybe now is the time. Maybe now he is in the nature, maybe now he feels it. But Monday will come for him either way.

A tailor

Sunlight hits his eyes in the morning. Two hours later it hits the insides of his shop in the middle of a small town. As he brews his morning coffee he looks over at the door right as his good customer enters. He is a rich Londoner, who comes to this small Italian tailor once every three months.

They drink coffee. They talk for hours. Two old men. Grey hair. Both dressed well. While they are in this small town, they are free.

They need no phones, they need no schedule...

A tailor's young apprentice walks in. He makes his coffee too while the tailor introduces him to the customer.

They take his measurement, his order, talk for half an hour more and the customer leaves. Several more will come by today. They all will talk for hours. They all are free while they are in this small town. They all hope that the civilisation never reaches here.