Chaos: Any great confusion or disorder (see "confusion").
In the realm of the Earth People, chaos is not the general goal. Earth People prefer to avoid chaos; alcoholics nurture it. We are in our element when the entire building is crashing down around us. Earth People flee in terror; alcoholics take a seat, dodging the occasional flaming timber, and throw some more gasoline on the fire. Our lives have been so marked with great disorder that we have kind of grown used to it. We still gravitate toward great disorder, even in sobriety. We can't help it. We're chaos junkies.
Confusion: Suggests an indiscriminate mixing or throwing together of things so that it is difficult to distinguish the individual elements or parts.
SuperK and I like to garden (by "garden" I mean "grow a variety of plants, flowers, and vegetables as food for the deer, rabbits, chipmunks, and squirrels that inhabit my incredibly urban yard"). My preference would be to have everything in neat little rows, organized by color and height, planted so that there would be an orderly progression of blooming. This is because I'm a control freak. I need to make everything buckle under to my demands.
SuperK prefers a style that we affectionately call Chaos Gardening. She buries shit in the ground and sees what comes up. Stuff is growing all over the place. Some areas look neglected and some are a riot of plant life. "If it blooms it stays," she says, when I point out that a particular corner of the garden is, in reality, weeds. This is my legacy. This is my reality.
"When God began creating the heavens and the earth, the earth was at first a shapeless, chaotic mass, with the Spirit of God brooding over the dark vapors."
That's what I'm talking about.
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