The Unbearable Lightness of Being Numb

I cannot feel my face with all of the impugn outrage set to 'firehose'.

This will be intentionally short.

This will be okay. Most people you know are not dying. Some of them act like they are because they are in psychic, emotional and real psychological pain from playing witness to world events. That is the pure milk of empathy in season.

Its milk resembles pain you should trust, but a kernel of you doesn’t. The floating ghost of intuitive reference, spins up a message from the murk of your minds magic 8-Ball. “YOU MAY BE PLAYED,” it reads.

Then, of course, there is a point when media purveyors cannot leech another authentic drop of moral outrage from you. TikTok has the entire book of acting categories with such diverse range, perhaps Juliard instructors want to throw themselves off a building. (Not a chance.)

How can you feel a damn thing because it has all been ‘felt’ - expressed, known, bones spat out by an insatiable one-eyed Gorgon? Are they now faking it to maintain? They don’t know what to do next. They just do what the next guy does - even if that emulates terrorism. Likes must be consistent. Likes must spin in my post. Did they see it? OK! I didn’t disappear today!

Do not panic. This too shall pass. Smell the grass. Pray in a still quiet place. Imagine what your own thoughts might be underneath this Always-on super spook -watching, watching, watching -never satisfied, unless you are smashing the on-screen monolith.

You’re not dead. You’re just “on” too much. You don’t owe that damn spook another second of your attenuation. They are … not actually with you.

That is the truth. Being alone for a little while isn’t so bad, is it?

Watch the fire, just like your ancestors.