Second page VII

 

I’m escaping. I’m lost in the music I’m playing, not trying to forget, don’t get me wrong; I want my pain right where it is. It’s just a little eyes-closed trip to nowhere, to the sound of the music, to the vibes I never sense but at some point I would like to, perhaps not too much. Not too often, of that I’m sure. But it’s true, I would like to. I’m getting so used to this negativity that I feel guilt when I imagine that. What is that? Wonder on. Evocate. Picture it to see if it becomes true. I was thinking about those people; that couple who came four years ago. I thought of some others too. How their stories start looking the same. Social media does that. The impulse of being part pushes, and pushes hard on everyone to have them addicted. It is amazing how people take their time for granted over the futility of fake news, or trends, that will soon pass, and won’t give them back their time. Time is the currency of life. There is no a single form of achievement, or memory, not linked to time, either as chronology, or as number of iterations. There is time and times, in English. Spanish is different in that perception.  Perception is also a valuable asset in life. We are losing sharpness on it, every time we leave; this virtual consensus, the capability of figuring something out. Another aspect we are taking for granted. Contemplation needs space. Contemplation needs us for time and perception, and we are giving them away for the comfort of a cherry pick pleasure. A cherry pick pleasure indeed may cause long-term consequences. Every time we grant a moment of our own, just to spend more minutes on scrolling down,  brain loses something,  anything. It is just not the same anymore.

 

Have you ever felt like saying something but you can’t just find the right words? Can’t you at least come up with any right word at all? Have you felt this way? It might be that something was taken from you. You lost it that time you spent so much short laughing on the screen; short smiling. Now the void makes you sad. Confused. I know some about that confusion. I was talking to someone and, during the conversation,  every example I made for, let’s say,  explain myself better, it was all about an Instagram joke, or a trend, something always according to some media. There is this clip from the nineties: Something’s Always Wrong. Back then,  it was about TV and Marketing calls. It was so innocent,  now that I see. They were trying to expose, in a way, how the market embraces every corner of interest, to a point that there is, in this case; was, nothing unavailable for purchase. That was then. That was before. Consumption has escalated to further and higher levels. It’s not just what I want to buy, and how do I get debts for it. It is the change of perception. The new reality.  The post-truth era. One day, I was talking to a sort of friend, and he told me something like: New Media; that’s how he calls it, New Media found its way in by bringing up our adolescent era and appeal to a nostalgic sense of a better moment. As adults, we are supposed to be up to the new challenges that come with the age. In the new media, those challenges are reduced to debts. That way, people could think it’s more worth it a spectrum of memories rather than present with future projects.  So they make room for it, and such room is fed with a massive wave of content and trivia, also with all these invitations and interactions, so people can not only boost images from the past, but also ask others to do it as well.

 

I’ve finally found a few minutes early in the morning for a coffee and some contemplation. The sound of the birds and the trees feels as the wind is directing this orchestra; definitely a different kind from the one at work. There is this picture in which you can see the clouds getting ready for their amusement: the passing of light and the sunrise dress. Fauna can tell. Not so sure that we can too but we try, and try, either here, or anywhere else; anytime, all the time, is the important thing to consider. I have time. I have time today, at least now. I pour myself as words into this paragraph, in an attempt to become a message, an idea, a wish I can make happen eventually. Words of hope: I would like to be that, although my sensitivity pushes, always pushes, for words of desire. Desire. Where do you hide it? What are we going to do with this? We see, we want to touch with our eyes. We want to place a sigh right where our minds ask us to be. We must be but, always but, we must be but we don’t know how. That’s why we wish and lie, lie behind our serious gestures, lie through our politeness, lie through our tough attitude… and confess in silence when we are alone. Some people claim they do as will: complain when they should, be gentle when they think they should, argue when they think they should, and touch when they feel like they should. I have a mix of feelings over that. I’m not sure if I admire or despise that. I can’t tell what would I be projecting exactly by experience it,  if it is projecting indeed, or it is just some misdirection to my own disorders. I’m not a lazy person but it is hard for me to maintain an argument,  I mean, I tend to let it go despite I may be right at it. The thing is that I get tired of needing to prove it. Sometimes I keep quiet because I sort of foresee that the other person won’t matter going further with whatever argument he wants to fight for. That need to prevail is exhausting to me, so I give up and accept it even when I know I’m right. What’s being right, anyway? In Spanish, being right has more to do with holding a reason; kind of like carrying some weight, it’s more a possession than a declaration of existence. When someone is right in Spanish,  that person has, or holds, the reason. Actually  Have absorbs Hold in this case, but for translation purposes,  let’s put it as Hold. Something similar occurs with Falling in Love. In Spanish you don’t fall, you, let’s say, enlove, to come up with a word for it. So being right and falling in love, have another taste when changing de language,  for example.