Somebody’s Watching Me

People are stupid. Yes, that means me with the PokemonGo ‘walk X miles with a phone’ obsession, or you who needs to TikTok anything that moves right now. I don’t want to turn Google off when it’s a free equivalent to a SatNav, and if you’re using that to sneakily pop out and visit the girlfriend or mum outside of lockdown? Google knows everything. If you wanna break the rules? Ditch your obsession.

This poem speaks to me on levels that resonate far more importantly than the poem that won the National Contest this year. This is raw, brutal honesty that’s far more affecting and disturbing than restrained, middle-class discomfort at subject matters they’ve never dared discuss in public. I’m beginning to realise the truth, such as it is right now, needs an awful lot of redefinition when all of this is over.

Karma is a bitch, and she will burn all our houses down with good reason.

The future, such as it is being realized already by others, bears some resemblance to our own, but with some crucial differences. Somewhere, a butterfly in prehistoric times has been stepped on by an errant time-travellers boot. The present, as we know it, remains irrevocably and fatally altered: this future does not resemble the one everyone had already envisaged. It is, undoubtedly, the wake up call many needed.

However, will everyone grasp the significance of this moment? Why should everything just return to the way it was before, as if we have learnt nothing from circumstance? There must be change, and reflection, and the understanding that we have been complacent over so many things, not just the planet and our own place within it. Those who will not accept this shift are a bigger issue than those who have.

Unsaid realities during Lockdown will soon become our daily conversations.