We kick frantically to stay afloat, our heads barely above the surface, grasping for air. The current is strong and we sink towards the deep abyss, helpless. But, like anyone who’s about to drown, there’s that eerie feeling of euphoria.
We need information to survive, to guide us through the complexities of the world and find our place in it. To relate to others, to learn, to share, to be a part of something bigger. So we dive, at our own peril.
There’s a womb-like feeling, after that initial awe while gazing at the huge mass before us, ready to swallow us whole. But quickly we learn how easy it is to be thrown back to shore and how easier we can be dragged out to the point of no return.
Information is not knowledge. Still, we’re droning, echoing whatever struck a chord within us, no matter fact or fiction, seagulls furiously scavenging the freshest litter. What else is there to do? We cannot afford to leave ourselves out of the squabble.
Information is water, essential, the cleaner the better. It’s part of us, and though we should not drink it tainted, we are responsible for its lack of purity. We spit more than we drink.
There’s no use in living in a fishbowl, or dipping our toes by the surf, delaying the inevitable plunge into the wild waves. We have to learn how to swim.
Because we’re drowning. “Go with the flow”, you might say, but there’s a chance you’ll be adrift and end up in a forlorn desert island, filled with cannibals. Eventually you may get eaten, become one, or their leader. But a master of its own destiny knows the difference between going, following and to drift.
That is an absurd question to ask a drowning man: “Where are you going?”. What would you answer, in between the grasps for air? Euphoria ensues, and down you go, into the abyss, as mentioned before. Your body rejected to shore, for the tide to put that corpse of will through its motions, ad infinitum.
Where are we going then? How much time can we spend trapped in the liquid jaws of this relentless ocean?
Social | News | Fake | Fiction | Entertainment | other types of Media, nothing kills the void, except instant anger, ephemeral bliss, the sound of our own voice in a forest of screams where no one really hears you when you speak. Reaction trumped action.
We cannot contain the waters. No dams should keep them from running, no margins should restrain their path, which is always the one of least resistance. Water should be free, so we can be free. Not a commodity, not a ready made product, not even fast/junk food for thought. That price is higher than what is acceptable.
Your mouth is dry. Your mind is a barren wasteland of references left to rot, your ideas are the sum of other people’s detritus that you hold on to, just to stay afloat a bit longer. You believe them yours. You believe you’re happy.
But you’ll drown. We all will. Unless we learn the difference between what swimming is, and how to do it.