I Was Talking About Love – You Are Talking About Geography by Bob Sykora
People torture themselves with online content. Lots of things can do this: from the repeats of hit 90s sitcoms to Facebook, it all reminds a person of how much time has passed and how little they are doing. The worst part of the online stalking life is how much of it is faked. False smiles abound throughout Facebook. Nobody wants to admit to hundreds of friends that they are having a bad time. So they lie. With those lies they hurt plenty more people ensuring that the sadness becomes a snowball effect, as people share their sadness privately and their happiness publicly. Thus it becomes impossible to ever fully recover from the ups and downs of life, making the downs a lot more common. Internet usage does this it dulls and depresses the senses like all so much alcohol. An addiction without a cure, the Internet of life ensures that nobody can disconnect and they know more than they ever wanted.
Cars are more than anybody ever wanted. Long ago a car was freedom meant people could go wherever they wanted. Unfortunately everybody got the same idea. People drive at the same time for work, for a thing that ultimately does not define them merely supports them. Those defined by work have sad lives indeed. Most typically bounce from job to job. Only so much of the same can be tolerated. Gradually the job wears a person down. With their commutes they find themselves increasingly alone in the world. Gone with whatever enthusiasm first existed they try to exist as best they can. Calling friends, watching the sunset in traffic, it is the little moments they give a slight glimpse of hope. Nostalgia does the same thing. Akin to friendship, nostalgia reminds people of simpler times, before anything became too important. That brief moment helps to inform lifetimes and explains the multitude of sequels, trilogies, and their ilk peppered throughout pop culture.
A look back does its worst. Bad times, good times, they flood into the memory depending on a person’s emotional state. Sad times can overwhelm long after they have passed. Hope exists within those memories, the bad ones, that perhaps they can be avoided. But few are ever amply prepared for what the world will bring them, whether a plethora of unicorns and unique experiences, more of the same thing over and over again, etc. Voices try to do the same thing over and over again: offering comfort, reassurance that the world can be a good place. Monotones do it best. Through such droning consistency they feel constant, a stream of sound to swim in.
The future always seems better in the present. When the future arrives it is never enough.