Whispers from the dirt

A collection of thoughts

The love of dirt

February 19, 2026 — Ranja Steward

A song for the dirt we all come from and that we all shal return to. We are nothing but dirt.


You have not yet learned to love the siol beneath your feet until you had the ground jump into your face, have felt the asphalt grinding at your skin, the sludge from last night's rain soaking you wet.

The grownups tell you to stay clean. To stay safe, not to hit the ground. But the grownups are cowards. They fear the dirt. Its abbrasive nature.

But what is dirt, other than traces of the same soil all living beings come from? Dirt is honest. A corrective force of nature.

They tell us to sweep out the dirt. To remove the consequences of our actions. To sweep it under the rug where it trickles down through the cracks, into the appartment below. But dirt is fierce. It always comes for you in the end.

I love the dirt. It is the bringer of life and what we return to. No matter the effort, it will always find its way into the nooks and crannies. It'll always erode what man has built.

We are the dirt. As they call us useless, unproductive. A disturbance of order and cleanlieness. Undeniable in our existence, unchangable in our nature. The cleaner world they try to build, the more we stick out, the more we stain their view.

Dirt cannot be governed. It does not obey. It has no ambitions. There- fore it cannot be defeated.

It teaches us that we cannot be defeated. As the worst they can do to us is to return us to dirt.

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