The crisp cool air of Winter has returned to the city which expresses to me that Spring isn’t as close as I had imagined. I had little desire to go into the office today and left a note with my staff that if they needed me, I’d be unavailable until 10 this morning. Initially I signed myself out for Thursday and Friday to enjoy the better weather and of course when I came to understand that Winter wasn’t done with her torment quite yet, I decided to remain at home to continue writing my book which tackles the 21st century human who cannot put their devices down. In this era of Snapchat and Facebook, it’s amazing to witness anyone who is outdoors without a device in hand. In fact it has become a rare occurrence. We have married ourselves to Samsung, Apple and LG and divorced playtime, family and unguided exploration. In this ever growing trend, I often fantasize of what is to become of the common man in future generations. He will likely graze a sunny field in the confines of a darkened room in some sort of artificial simulation. Homes will be surrounded by large glass domes. Originality will no longer occur among the masses, it will all be simulated reruns of eras long ago. Love partners will be similar to the Stepford Wives. Dull and without personality. My outlook seems grim, and I recognize that but look around you the next time you’re in a park. You’ll be surrounded by people-drones who can’t put that device down to really see what is around them.
Right, I am writing this evening to discuss my inner thoughts to this low-responding group of people who as well write here. I’ve had serious thoughts of disappearing completely to a location where absolutely nobody knows anything about me. Somewhere where I am not recognized as the prick psychologist or the butt of all office jokes for his lifestyle choice. A location so far away that nobody could ever find me. Life had it’s way with me, and humans had their way, too. With all of my knowledge and all of my training, I understand that the common man cannot help his short-comings but the ‘talking-cure’ as Freud termed it can get to the caregiver in time. As well can the idiocies of the common co-workers who show very little respect once they have a base-line understanding of who they think I am.
Currently (and for more than half of my life) I live alone having secured the entire top floor of a 16 story apartment building in what trend-setters refer to as the upper class portion of the city. My view is perceived in two ways; awe inspiring in certain seasons and then depressing when observed through a deep thinker’s eyes. Depressing because it is viewed as a capsule holding 1 million problems in the casting of life who are all probably the equivalent of Google think tanks. Amid them exist those who go above and beyond the ordinary flow of conformity and trend existing while hustling to Starbucks or some fast food quickie. They don’t take the time to really get to know themselves, much less another and forget how to breathe amid the cranking horns and hissing commutes. When I view this city, I view regurgitation and mayhem and would rather leave it behind me.
My finances assure me that escape is probable, so now it requires taking those first steps. The dumb smart phone would be recycled, large sums of cash would be withdrawn, and no forwarding address would exist. The essentials are in motion. Do not be surprised to discover that I have succeeded. Monks have it figured out, they retreat to solitude and silence and refuse the world to reach God. Though I do not believe in man’s biggest lie ‘God’ I do believe in their lifestyle. A monk is the happiest man on earth, he lives without your society.
Perhaps I will read this tomorrow out loud to myself and change my mind. Perhaps I will drown my thoughts in a heavy drink. Or perhaps I will stare out into the city and hope that some of them snap out of it. The sure thing is that I have emptied my thoughts.