When it matters the most

There are three things I struggle to understand. Time and Love being the first two basics, the third - who we are where it matters the most.

More than anything else, it's left my grasp so many times that I've lost count. We live in a socially dignified era, driven by clicks and likes, touched so deeply by so many notions, yet so secluded in where we stand in life.

If there's one thing I hate, it has to be those meaningless conversations we choose to have, convincing ourselves and one another that the pleasure of being acquainted lies in the endless open exchange of memes and jokes and inspirational quotes. We choose to discuss the deeper matters by forwarding feel-good videos filled with a lifetime of advice, and the truths on where we stand about the subject gets laid out without any one of us saying a single word. Birthday wishes and anniversaries have become stickers and digital flowers, and death has become a sad little teary face with a name - "Sad". Where are our voices when it matters the most? When did we become so voiceless, so detached and so damn pointless?

You see, we used to be a generation that knew how to talk. We used to 'brave' the concept of really looking into each others eyes, the acts of real love and intimacy, sex without texts, relationships without status updates, real damn feelings. We used to know each other's smell and taste, the whispers of delight, and spending real time together - without documenting every little thing on our instagram or tik tok feeds, without rehearsing and being bothered by the trivialities of how short a Youtube short needs to be, or which filters we need to download to add the desired effect in showcasing our lives. Where are those moments when it matters the most? Instead - we've become people who are afraid of other people, we've become afraid of asking real questions and having meaningful real conversations about WHO we are. It's become a world full of people who shy away from their own preferences because they are herded into the 'safe' spaces of what is acceptable to others, the cyber spaces where we get enslaved and entrapped, one by one.

We get nervous and petrified of living a moment that can't be liked and shared, and we don't talk or comment unless it's documented in some way or form. This I struggle with daily. Tangible life has been replaced by temporary popularity. Sex, real human interaction, story telling, basic conversations and the need we have as social beings have been replaced by fantasies at the click of a button, a login and password, demoralizing our social structures, ruining self worth, the self-pleasure we derive from the jail we've created, and we don't even realize that we're stealing from ourselves with negligent impunity.

This deep dark hole has become the breeding ground and the perfect environment for the seeds of iniquity to grow. This is the place where we can get away with being unfaithful in our relationships, be it by the secret affairs we have, or the fantasies we so desperately lock into when our partners don't satisfy us anymore because they don't look or act or moan like the porn stars we so easily and willingly watch and yearn for. The act of fracturing those we love with a 5 minute google search and being unable to grasp their brokenness because we can't look into their eyes for long enough to see it. Some may agree, some may not, most will not have an opinion because the moral compass

This is the place where we get away with stealing, and lying, fraud, and even terrorism, waging a war with your Gboard and spell checker, corrupting humanity with a cloak of invisibility that's weaved together from the fibers of fibre, how patriotic. A place where creativity bundles together in our editing skills on photoshop, and we not only misrepresent ourselves, but we lose the ability to think and reason. We have become socially, morally, politically, and emotionally disabled. A society of backseat drivers.

The death of a generation will surely not be a physical occurrence, but it will be by the fear of having a real voice, by the absence of touch and the empty hours that we spend clicking our lives away. It will be by the sight we lose of each other as our faces are lit up by the flickering lights of our devices, it will be by the touch that is lost between our hands because they are simply too busy scrolling and staying in touch with 'life'. The moments will become as fleeting as the shadow of a bird that flies overhead, it's beauty forgotten and unnoticed.

This death will surely not be sudden, but it will be brutal and so very final that only a few will be left to enjoy the spoils of life when it matters the most..