The Age of Affluent Impotence

Sometimes I like to start writing random ideas down a one-way street of my brain and see if it comes to anything good. As a new Medium user, I’m wondering if I can use this tool to look back on interesting “post-it” type thoughts for later, larger works. Here goes!

In our “civilized” society of haves and have-nots, I have often wondered where this street is leading.

Could it be to a dead-end corner of reluctant nihilism? A darkened, post-apocalyptic world of unobscured drudgery? Perhaps.

But perhaps I’ve been too lenient on the evils at work here, giving too much credit where it is undue. It’s not as if this was the first time a brutal scour of rage has boiled over — justifiably so — but at the same time, everything feels so different.

It was different in the sense that I woke up this morning and couldn’t feel my toes. Sure, I could move them. But what was the point? I couldn’t feel the need to move them any place in particular. This sense of apathetic drainage in my soul, lost of all ardor — or even, candor.

What should I do? What can I do?