I watch the blinking line, wondering what it is I intend to do in this moment. Not much really, just a bit of a mental release I suppose. I find myself in a constant state of floating. I travel from place to place, not knowing exactly what it is I am looking for. Immersing myself, in whatever.
I walk aimlessly, trying to find a bit of solace in rememberce of pleasures that can be found in the disconnect.
I want to say I find it startling that I have found myself so utterly addicted to technology, but I'm not really shocked. I actually feel relatively numb about it all. I hear the passionate cries of people, chanting small quips of how to make it right. I don't know how I feel about it anymore.
I know when I can find a spark of humanity inside of me, the embers seeem to be enough to ignite my compassion momentarily. I find myself driven to more drastic measures that I can't utter aloud.
I feel trapped inside a digital box; I feel the sharp edges of corners, rounded with the need of narcissitc approval.
I see signs, literal signs, of people who want change, yet sat on the sidelines as their fellow brothers, and sisters were crucified nightly, deaths glorified on television, in papers, next door, just within reach.
I saw tense shoulders at the mention of corruption years ago, when I saw towers fall, and thought, 'Huh, that's what it feels like." I understood the world who similtaniously cheered, and felt disgust for the act itself. It was not terror, it was reaction.
We are just reactions, atoms, reacting, pulsing, ripping through space. I don't know. Who does. I know I see a lot of beasts, dressed up in snazzy clothing, using opposable thumbs to shoot one another with guns.