On the five-metre-long ant trail, a large number of ants carry lentil-sized palm seeds from the place where they fell and were left lying into their burrow, whose entrance is a two-centimetre-high cavity in the space between two large stones.
Little by little, over time, countless of these seeds disappear into the small cave. The entrance is guarded by three ants with huge heads and equally huge pincers. They patrol restlessly within twenty centimetres of the entrance. Ready to cut off the head of anyone who approaches the entrance without authorisation. Ready to give their lives for the ant tribe.
Inside the burrow, the seeds are stored and used as food for the tribe.
Everyone does their service for the survival of the tribe. The ant wars on this dusty plateau are cruel. If two tribes get too close to each other in their search for food, each tribe throws all its soldiers into battle. In the end, the approximate centre between the two burrows is littered with dismembered and twisted ant corpses.
That is the law of matter. Spreading and accumulating. That is the life that materialists also imagine for humanity. Everything for its tribe. All energy. All of life. Only with one difference: actually, in the materialistic society of human beings, it is not the tribe that counts. What counts are those who individually spread and accumulate the most. For themselves.
Everyone is his own tribe – think those who are good at accumulating and spreading. All others should serve with their lives the survival of the system that is so favourable to them. Not complain. Work. Wage wars. Do not disturb. Not consume too much for themselves. And then die quickly.
Why does this collective machine existence work for ants but not for humans? Why is every human being his own tribe and the best materialists conquer all the resources?
Because man is not a machine. He perceives beyond the material world. He cannot be a machine in a machine world. He is more. But he cannot interpret this perception of being more for himself.
So he is afraid. Is in fear because he only sees a meaningless machine existence that does not do him justice. Which therefore makes him suffer. He is desperate, full of suffering and does not want to pass away.
He wants to regain his „more“, his wholeness, the inner unity that he wordlessly senses.
And so he grinds and grinds and kills in himself and in others, just to finally be able to enjoy the solitary peace that he suspects exists.
But he takes the wrong path. The peace can only be found in himself. In him. And the unity too. Everything only in him. External annihilation, expansion and accumulation do not heal his longing.
But that is all he knows. That is why man meanwhile lives like an ant in an – to make matters worse – insane ant tribe and suffers unspeakable agonies in his lifelong imprisonment in this machine existence, which is grotesque for him as a human being.
All „prosperity“, all „having“, all „possessing“, all material „possibilities“ are only circumstances of his machine existence transferred to the – half – human being.
Because his existence is more complex than that of an ant, this does not mean that it is somehow different at its core.
„Prosperity“, „having“, „possessing“, „possibilities“ are his instincts that keep him functioning. Only as a single tribe and against all other single tribes – which keeps a sham social tribe shakily and highly fragilely existing.
This is the law of matter in its misguided form. It is the fear of death in the individual that runs amok and can only see opponents or resources in everything and everyone.
And those with the particularly great fear of death, they create the atmosphere, the environment, the rules that fuel this trench warfare and make it the only possible existence for the individual.
The trench dagger firmly in the fist and into the melee. A grip in the eyes, a stab in the exposed throat. Another one less who could frighten me, who could be a danger to me. One less, of trillions of frightening impressions.
All of them must die. Everything has to die. Then silence at last… And now the leap into the next ditch. And up the blood-dripping dagger. Everything must die. Die. Die. Die…
…that can’t be „life“, can it?