The Caveman

“Look at the filth and dust in your room!! Ugh! Can’t you clean up this mess???”. My mother was definitely in one of her more combative moods.

I turned a lazy eye around the room. Books lay haphazardly strewn over the lone table, a chocolate wrapper poked itself from beneath a debris of clothes lying in a corner, and the crowning glory of the room, yours truly, was lazily reclining on a bed on which lay an assortment of items, none of which you would find on an average bed. Indeed they were more likely to be found in your average trash can.

“All this is a consequence of man going farther and farther away from nature”, I said to my mother. “We men were meant to be one with nature. Ashes to Ashes. Dust to Dust. Isn’t that what the bible says? This obsession with cleanliness is just another path leading away from the real truth. Nature is God.” (The chap who said cleanliness is godliness must have had a heart attack if he had been anywhere near.)

Mom listened, gave a defeated shrug of her shoulders and walked off.

I returned to my lethargy.

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