I am connected.
Yet there is a disconnect
The information overload of the external leaves very little room for inner reflection.
My head is bent down not in prayer but over the screen as I read the news.
I am very careful about what I fill my mind with.
But I am still filling my mind.
So where does that leave me when the news is depressing?
In a word,
I have access but feel powerless.
Entertainment is not happiness.
Movies, games, music, audio, video,
across my retinas,
more than I could ever use in a
in some vain attempt to stave off boredom.
That subtle-itching-deep-down agitation remains.
I am obsessed with my inbox.
(I used to get depressed at seeing an empty mailbox)
“You have mail therefore you are relevant.”
Like Pavlov’s dog I am acclimated to the chime of a new text.
Is it healthy to be available 24/7?
Where is the space and time to be alone?
Desktop, laptop, tablet,
smart car, smart watch, smart phone
Why do I feel so dumb?
It is the opposite of being sucked dry
this filling up
but the outcome is the same.
The divine spark is drowned.
So since there is no one here
in this sterile white room
under these sheets
with this needle in my vein
and the flickering lights flowing
from the bottle and the tube
then it is up to me
to get a firm grip
on the sharp plug