Revelations From Afar

The air gently brushes against our warm cheeks, with it comes a chilling sensation. Not from the freezing temperature, no, but something far less innocent: awareness. Awareness of the fleeting moments that occupy our brittle minds, leaving only but fragments as it whirls around, kicking up dust and reminding us of past moments, but only in fragments. Our minds bouncing from moment to moment, we hardly even notice the changing of the scene. So occupied with our devices in hand, that we fail to notice the child’s first drawing. Our desire to feel the energy of distant connections is diminishing our aptitude to evolve, our soul weeping as it attempts to make contact with our flesh and bones when standing in front of the mirror.

Why must you do this to yourself, it cries, but the flesh doesn’t resonate with inner talk. Why let that voice communicate with you when you have hundreds of people waiting for you online? The soul needs you to grow, to reach for new heights, the online world wants you to like them — so they send a heart your way. I’d say we’ve lost our way, but hasn’t this always been what Sapiens’ are about? Lusting after the sensations, confusing them for signals on the road to progress, when in reality they are optical illusions. The minds way of shelving the pain.

Why?

M.B.

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