Sinaloa Rows Of Tops
we shout at those who can hear, but whisper in the
direction of the deaf. we are oracles and truth seers,
but we don't get up from our desks. we don't want to
follow where anyone goes. we are oceans of islands with
no shore. we shoot up into trees at eagles and crows,
but can't see through the branches anymore. we forget
our friends, even more - our foes, but we type until
our fingers are sore. we maim our face, to spite our
nose, and stop working when it makes us sore. we try to
topple columns by forming rows, and yell in ways so
easy to ignore. we're revolutionary, but just spinning.
explanation
it seems to me that a higher and higher percentage of
human interactions are faceless, anonymous, and largely
without consequence. they are conveyed through a
computer, a text message, or some other device of
convenience, and they happen very much in isolation.
there is also a vast universe of online spaces, and it
seems that many people respond to that vastness by
desperately trying to be noticed, to be distinct
amongst the countless masses, but not necessarily being
desperate to connect with anyone else in a meaningful
way. people are forgetting what it is to look another
person in the eye. the most important, and most
trivial, topics are debated vehemently (often
expertly), but because the trivial seamlessly neighbors
the important, very little gets beyond debate. very
little turns to action. a generation of people see very
clearly the problems of their day, but largely in
isolation, and the real mimics the tone of the
hypothetical.
