Why don’t I write any more?
An honest answer would be that I’m lazy but on digging deeper I can tell you that my laziness is evoked by the redundancy of life itself. How people around me are busy glorifying there little moments with photos they put up for the world to see. How the purpose of contemplation is totally lost, compared to what it was. Today contemplation isn’t an unconditional pursuit of reason. Today’s minds are too fast (unstable) for the steady pursuit of reason. We’re bored too quickly. We want something to be excited about. Every single day. Sometimes even during the different times of the same day. Our minds are addicted to the constant consumption of life through a consistent flow of information. There’s no time for experiencing.
I sometimes fail to relate to all this, but I give in. I let my mind fall into the patterns and the ways. I follow but stay unbelonged. Because you can’t rise above the rules of the world and its inhabitants.
The new way of the world is not about experiencing but just about knowing. I don’t think I want to know anything of the world and era that I belong to. So I don’t feel like writing about my days in its redundancy and about the rapid decay of mass intellect due to shrinking attention spans and the extinction of the once beautiful act of contemplation.
So I let the world and its happy people be.