Sometimes, I wish that I could still judge and evaluate the world in terms of simple principles and precepts. I sometimes wish that "morally right" meant something definite, rather than being something that never seems to be quite figured out. I wish, sometimes, that I had never been in a situation where everything I believed in didn't seem to apply. There are times that I wish that I could be innocent again. I once was a primitive ape who played with sticks. From time to time, I would knock down a fruit, and I would eat it, skin and all, getting the life-giving nutrients from the skin and pith unthinkingly as I savored the delectable flesh. Once I had tired of the fruit, I would toss the remainder of it into some soft peat, knowing in my heart there would always be more fruit, not caring why. I would then make a new game out of throwing stones and perhaps knock down more fruit. Then I grew up, and I believed that I knew things. I was very proud of myself. I felt so grown-up, thinking about how much I knew. I knew that I needed the fruits from the trees to nourish my body, so I didn't just play with sticks mindlessly anymore. Instead, I would knock them down, or I might use a thrown stone if the fruits were too high up to reach with a stick. I knew that I had to eat the rinds off of the fruits and not just the flesh, so I could be healthy. I knew that I ought to save some of the fruit and some of its seeds and bury them in soft peat, so there would be more fruit trees later on. I really knew what was up, and I felt so smart. I had a time when I was a philosopher, and I didn't just eat the fruit. I thought about the fruit. I thought about all of the different kinds of fruit there were and how some fruits were orange and others red. I divided them up into different categories, and I created a system for naming them. My means of reaching these fruits also became more sophisticated: I built all kinds of tools and machines to help bring down my fruits in the most advanced possible manner. I was truly an advanced creature, and I thought very highly of myself. And now I just look longingly at sticks and stones, and I think about how nice they are to play with. Sometimes, I get frustrated with people who try to impose their own ideas on the natural world. I feel an urge to tell them, "you are making things far too hard and complicated." However, then I remember that I just want them to be my friends. I like having friends. So I keep my mouth shut.
