The first step out of a stupor is to say there never was a stupor. And the second step is to make sure your reality supports that claim, through all means, either the machinations of your brain or keeping your fork at the 10 o’clock and the spoon at the 5 o’clock for the three course meal coming. Your wrists will be slapped otherwise: misplacement is the orphan of carelessness.
Although in my March review I was surreptitiously cataloguing the new actions under my skill tree path, such silence led to more silence and led to where I’m here today.
We’re out at sea, you see. We’re out there and the tides close in. Either you are on a raft of a mind or you grab any spare junk in flotsam to build something substantial. When the Leviathan slices the Indian Ocean in two and sucks you into the newly formed trench of ages, do you think holding your flag dearly will keep you safe?
See, every moment there’s a signal to pick up and a news article to propagate and a new diagnosis along the long list of “unwantables” to sink its jaw into you. No starfish colony will redeem you from a missing torso — no collectibles, no such treasure, there’s no such trinket. Either you build your vessel, or you have the Leviathan take you in, submerge you, and your blood suspends with the ocean again.
Slowly I build this raft, and it’s no yacht club. And I know if I sink into any waters I’ll be surely consumed by the new monsters out there. For once I’m too dismayed to look at any social media, anything at all. No imageboards, news, neocities — even text messages startle me. In the garden Adam was blushing from vulnerability, burned in his nakedness — he knew but did not prepare. I feel the same nakedness, and yet it’s an issue that’s been pending for generations or more.
I guess I’m saying how I mostly rid myself of more distractions. As of now I haphazardly browse some two or three subreddits, but have no account to contribute nor reason to visit much longer. So I guess that’s an accomplishment. Barnacles be gone, you could tritely say.
I guess I’m saying that, but I’m also saying that I cannot handle new information; or more aptly, do not want to. It is akin to the child begging for a new Lego set with glossy instructions despite their whole bin of discarded parts waiting for synthesis. A new civilization awaits!