I like to smell this moss at work from time to time. There's a little gap in the plastic for your thumb to lift the top, but its a great little access point for my nose.
It suddenly occurred to me today just how dystopian it actually is. It's like the zoo equivalent for moss.
I had a flash vision pop into my head of a barren landscape, thousands of kilometres of concrete and glass, not a bird to be heard or a butterfly of which to take a macro photo. A lifeless, sterile, cultureless landscape of working citizens, staring at glass screens, scrolling and inputting data.
An infinite number of monkeys attempting to work themselves out of the mundane.
The monkeys' instincts call them to nature, but their duties as worker monkeys providing profit for the alpha leader up top quickly suppresses it all into the deepest corners of the few remaining cells of their body that listen.
The surrounding trees had been cut down, as their leaves were an inconvenience to sweep up, and falling branches could damage passing cars.
We can't have that
Plants were banned from the workplace as they encouraged flies and egg laying, and their requirement for sunlight meant they were usually near the window where they might fall off the balcony or, if inside, tip onto the floor and make a mess.
There are regulations against that
Mere paintings of trees and birds on the walls as a king of pseudo-compromise was considered childish, too bright and colourful and not conducive to a productive team at all... as we all know from the fact that all cars are all black and white now, and all buildings and phones are plain glass rectangles. It's better to be absolutely neutral to neutralise any discontent one might get from a group of humans with a variety of opinions.
The computer desktop background is of a beautiful sunset falling on an ocean horizon, but it was AI generated and doesn't actually exist and one's excel spreadsheet is permanently opened on top anyway. Even if closed, the desktop icons cover at least half of it and provide a clear reminder of its illusionary nature. In this life, it'll never be reality.
A monkey only gets a few days off a year to go to such places - at great expense - and in this country, the smog makes absolutely sure you'll never see the sun at a low enough angle to be considered a 'sunset'. A nice, cozy rug of grey coats the sky, instead.
This here monkey, however, had a solution. What if there was a plant that didn't need much sunlight, space, or maintenance, took up the smallest possible space, dropped no leaves and attracted no bugs?
A mighty boring plant, for sure. In fact, since acquiring this triangle of moss many months ago, the only change that has been identifiable is a slight browning of the occasional dying stem.
The higher authorities wanted the room to smell nice, but not offensive, so they put a tub of chemicals with wooden sticks in it on the desk to permeate the room with great strength. It's not an unpleasant smell, but entirely artificial. It's from Zara.
This monkey picks up his moss and takes a sniff through the thumb hole. Now that's a smell you can set your watch to. Each inhalation instantly teleports him back to his young monkey days of nature, ponds, chickens, flowers, adventures in the woods and swamps, views of majestic mountains and wild deer relaxing in the shade of ancient trees.
Was it all delusion, a dream?
As the monkey rests his eyes and ears from the white lights and background noise of honking trucks, the cleaner comes and casually sweeps the moss off the table into the trash.
It was nice while it lasted.
