Distraction
A rhymeless poem for the out-of-sync soul
There is a humming sound and I cannot focus anymore. I am everywhere all at once, at least my thoughts are.
I do not remember the last time I felt focused. Focussed to the extent that I could not remember my surroundings.
And over the past few months or years, I do not have any memories
All my memories are from a time when I did not use my phone
The humming noise continues, my brain feels porus, things come and go, nothing sticks. I have a memory, a good one, a feeling of happiness, but I do not remember what caused it.
It is easy to drown myself in TV shows, that way you do not have to feel your brain. The house is a mess, things are all over the place. I cannot remember the last time I laughed with a friend.
I am distracted but I am not sure what was the original thought, There are so many now, that I do not recall what was the original thought and what was the distraction
As I write this, I have opened up a couple of other tabs. Soon I find myself reading the news. Was I reading the news and then started writing or was it the other way around? It is unclear
I am constantly reading news but it feels like I am not learning anything new. 2023 is the Hottest year, agricultural crop production across the world has taken a hit. I shell out a lot more to buy my vegetables now. But things seem to be getting worse from here on.
India had its first moon landing. There was a sense of pride and people were celebrating. A bunch of people near my house started bursting crackers.
I wanted to ask them, how does it change your life, this moon landing? What is the source of such happiness? But I did not want to be a buzz kill. We all love a grand distraction, we love to look at the sky, the stars, the outer space. Because back here things are bleak
I look at the stories for the next few days and so much news about the moon landing. But what about the earth? The floods in Himachal the fires in California or the Pine Honey apocalypse in Turkey.
I am not a pessimist, but tell people how things actually are you are labelled a pessimist. So I let myself be distracted.
Distracted by petty things the internet creates while the world burns away. I find solace in it, like a refuge escaping from her burning motherland.
Except this is not really an escape but a distraction.
We are all seeking the greatest distraction. The distraction of overstimulation. Of being one with the screen.
Of lives in which we are our glorious selves. A land where we do not live today, but our dreams do.
Where we are characters in a show that someone else is watching. Where we are the distraction to someone else's woes
