Loss of control

The jungle

"Is there harmony in nature or only chaos and fighting for survival?"

There is something about the jungle that draws me in. It’s the chaos, the loss of control. Stepping into nature, swallowed by something vast and indifferent. Here, we shed the illusion that we were ever in control. We weren’t. And since I love to run away, I take comfort in being far from everything, in a place where nothing bends to human order.

Nature here is violent

Herzog put it best: "Nature here is violent. I see fornication and asphyxiation and choking. And fighting for survival and growing and just rotting away." That, I think, is the truest summation of life.

There is no meaning, no order, no balance—only the ceaseless struggle to overcome. And yet, even within chaos, there is a kind of order. Not stillness, not peace, but a state of perpetual motion, of shifting dominance, of something always pushing against something else.

Chaos is not the enemy.

And I find that beautiful. Not bleak, not hopeless, just freeing. If there is no grand meaning, no ultimate purpose, then I am unburdened. I can simply be.

I once saw water burning, flames flickering on the surface, defying reason. It was a reminder that the world is not made to be understood, that contradictions exist without resolution. And yet, there is no need to search for meaning in it. Like Camus said: "The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy."

If existence is absurd, if nature is chaos, then there is nothing to resist, only something to embrace. Chaos is not the enemy. It is life itself. And in surrendering to it, I find a strange kind of calm.

Of course, I’ve only been to the jungle once, as a tourist. Nothing too daring, I wasn't wrestling anacondas or getting lost in the depths of the Amazon. Mostly, I just sweated a lot and reapplied mosquito spray. But it left a lasting impression. These days, though, I prefer to "venture out" with my pen and sketchbook, traveling in my mind, gazing into the chaos of nature from the safety of my desk, where the most immediate threat is running out of snacks.