Technology has gotten out of control. Based on medical data, social media are adding to our anxiety.
The Internet started with a noble attitude, just to get out of hand. ‘Internet addiction’ has become a diagnosis. I’m assailed by a destructive sense of nostalgia. Life as my generation knew it, doesn’t exist anymore.
Recent studies on teenagers showcase mood-improvements after just two weeks off media.
Governments are imposing strict rules to media giants.
For my generation, only the Past counts: Religion teaches that the Past doesn’t exist anymore, the medical profession sees it in a traumatic context.
Only the future is real these days, the biggest lie.
The future is most unpredictable: ‘predicting’ is never 100% accurate.
Who could predict the Covid pandemic?
There is no Future for me.
I only live in a traumatic Past and a slip-away Present.
Fear of age gripped me since I moved abroad. I never obsessed over age in my country, whilst it has become a painful countdown here.
Before the Internet age, we could spend Summer holidays sleeping on the beach without thinking of tomorrow.
We could stop time.
Nowadays, we want to escape the Momentum, because nothing is still.
We constantly project.
We didn’t have cell-phones in the 80s.
We could only watch the sea and the stars on the beach.
We felt united, free, safe. How many longtime, sincere, passionate love stories enfolded. The sentiment of Belonging as one body was dopamine flowing.
Sure, there was night and day, but the sea and the stars were always there.
Sunrises were soothing reminders of a new worry-free day.
Today, we watch at the phone on the beach.
Texts flashing no stop, leading us mercilessly into the day ahead, all the while scared to turn the phone off.