Silence of Mood and Ouroboros

Image: DasWortgewand (Pixabay)

Th e mo od  t a k e s  y  o  u   .

Swivels your faculties out of whack. Makes you unfeeling toward action. Towards pleasure, or caring.

The future becomes a blank slate, to stare at. And the drumming question “why?” plays like a background earworm.

This is what the mood does, and we have weaponised it.

Turn on your computer and you can see the early prototype. The weapon that turns you inward with lush graphics, but afterwards leaves you void.

What friendship was there? What love?

And then we projected this over the aether.

Our enemies slouched over their desks, and smartphones, lolling away. Sapped of life and energy. They forget what they were playing for, but the act of playing is habitual.

We remind them, daily of useless facts, broadly useless but daily useful. Cook that perfect pasta, fold that great T-shirt, lifehack your way through life.

Except that’s not how life works…

The fantasy and desire spreads, infecting culture, and we have finally inhibited the entire generation of drive, and focus.

But then, we forgot, in our day of ubiquitous influence – to inoculate ourselves. The boomerang words come back, our bright screens beckon, and we find our bunkers of insider knowhow don’t keep our minds from being desecrated by the same time-wasters we created.

In an age devoid of religious outlooks, we were left hollowed out, husks animated while walking, but attached to phones by the teat. Following where they are leading, and where are they leading…but where the money goes, which is where we are going…

So the snake eats itself.


Bleh, that’s my mental vomit. It has some truth, but it’s not accurately capturing life. I just had to get it out.


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