The ease of it all is suffocating
I was gutted late at night after watching episode one of the new season of Black Mirror which depicts a husband selling himself to grotesque antics on a streaming platform to get extra money to keep the subscription going for his wife’s life saving brain implant. Plus! Premium! Now she’s got ads spewing from her mouth at intervals! Shell out another couple hundred a month to upgrade to the no ads edition. The coverage on this tier doesn’t extend outside of the county!
We’re the rats in the rat race.
It’s easy to begin a subscription on amazon to get your favorite body wash every 3 months for 5% off and it’s easy to get things to your doorstep in two days or one day or even same day its easy to DoorDash a pizza and it’s easy to stream a movie from Netflix which may or may not ads now depending on how much money you put towards it and it’s easy to order your food online so you don’t have to talk to anyone really at all except a here’s my name and please and thank you. It’s easy to order your groceries for pick up and easy to pay for parking on one of the few apps (or some that scan your license plate for ya) and it’s easy to find followers who’ll with glazed eyes swipe and scroll through your carefully selected photos.
Made breathless by the ease, not romanced by having more time to live.. to truly live… but more time to find more ease to do more to do it faster and easier to do even more no matter what affect it may have on any aspect of life.
It’s easy to ghost people and it’s easy to get cheap thrills on the internet with the mass tumor of sexual content and it’s easy to search up your wildest dreams of all forms and it’s easy to ask ai to do xyz and it’s easy to purposefully search for a specific inspiration in a Pinterest search bar and it’s easy to find the song you can’t remember the title of if you can at least recall a few words of the lyrics. It’s easy to use the payments plans for all kinds of purchases like clothes or shoes or books or gadgets and it’s easy to even rent clothes that we can’t buy or don’t want to because it’s a trend.
It’s easy to subscribe and forget. It’s easy to forget to unsubscribe.
It’s hard to be honest that we’re all bogged down and suffocated by the ease of it all. Being offered everything there’s pleasure in so little.
How are we to be childlike we are defiled by bares bodies flitting across screens, stripping innocence with their own skins? Bombarded by endless scrolls, enticing into a mantra of just one more. It’s short form it’s fast food it’s making everyone anxious and bored by beauty.
Some is in the name of minimalism, a game I tried to play. I will not Maria whatever my random drawer of t shirts let me own them in peace.
I was once content with a cardboard box, a sand box, a simple gold cast figurine we hid in the ground to later find in grand adventures. I owned childhood. Now we own nothing and even the child is lost. Seemingly.
Then what are we to do… go take a walk, it’s going to be okay. Find him again in the sprinkler the sunset the sandwich the glistening smithereens of what is cracked by the machine.
We have imaginations,
it merely vomits what we’ve sung.