Press four if you want to complain

Press four if you’d like to complain, about the lack of time for idleness and lolling around, despite all the buttons promising a saving of time.

About the fear to digitally disentangle oneself from the noise, competition and fierce need for validation from strangers.  From the pettiness of it all:  see my thought, see the image I see now, and value it.

Press four if you want to speak to a human, and not a hybrid attached to data and content, showing you a different view of the sunset, one you didn’t see.

It’s all smoke and mirrors and a bottomless pit of promises, dissatisfaction and eternal consumerism.  Nothing tangible, just motion and a suggestion that this post, yes, this post just here, will bring happiness.

But it won’t.

And you know that, and I know that, and still we post.

If you would like to deactivate your account, please press four.

If you want to decompress from too many opinions and too many thoughts, from too many strangers over too much time, please press four.

There are simply too many voices now, jabbering on incoherently about everything, all the time.

One thought at a time please.  The chorus is too loud and too discordant.  One idea at a time, one complaint at a time, please.

I long to be idyl longer.  Lay down in the long grass with my feet up in the air.  Making shapes with the clouds and not share them with anyone, but gurgle if I want to gurgle.

Don’t tell anyone…just loll about in quietness.

Retain a private thought and image, retrain my brain to not want to capture it all and spread it around thinly.

So drink it in fully, and don’t leave it on the window sill going stale.  Taste every molecule of the thirst-quenching delight.  Even the sour bits and the pieces that are hard to swallow.  It’s not forever.  It is now.

Bring back the fax machine, turn off the apps.

Surrender the camera phone to the moon.

I thought the internet would be fun forever.

I was wrong.