Design for Life

It’s odd, isn’t it. You spend about a year being convinced you’re gonna die from COVID, that at some point, however hard you try, there’s going to be a moment where it just happens, and then half your family get infected, but you don’t, and then you willingly allow someone to inject a synthetic version into your body so that you can live a normal life, except you know full well there will never be any normal like it was ever again.

Mentally, this is a significant mindfuck. I don’t care how you dress it up. To sit here as I do now, as if the world just stopped feeling as if it is properly glued together, is reasonably fair by current standards. Watching the stream of people going in and out of the surgery this morning, exactly regimented and reassuringly average, you’d be hard-pressed to know anything had even happened in the last year. The only discerning common factor was masks. Everything else was instantly forgettable. This is not how it should be, but that’s where we are.

I am very, VERY angry, still: it’s there, sitting just beyond my field of vision. Yesterday it showed me just how destructive it could be, and although it was managed, I need to do something better with it than pretend it doesn’t exist. I sense a PHENOMENAL amount of exercise coming up, just to try and wring it out of me, to make exhaustion feed on it to keep me going. People had better not fucking forget what was lost on the way to their supposed salvation.

They really had better not forget the lives that no longer exist because of other people’s fucking greed.

Nothing Compares to You

I think about a lot of random shit when I’m exercising, which divides into two distinct categories. There are the sessions when I have a plan of attack, accompanied by a specific musical soundtrack. Today however I was up early with nothing in my head except getting the job done: 1 hour and 45 minutes of HIIT work on a static bike. During those 104 minutes, there were some interesting revelations.

I am, like many other people, quite angry at present. One particular source of ire is directed at those people who have turned up where I live, complained it isn’t what they want it to be and then tried to sell me their ideas… I’m not talking about my physical home, but the virtual one. Lots of people find ‘digital native’ an unpleasant term, but that’s what I am, like it or not.

In the last decade watching big business and politicians turn up to try and both monetise and politicise this platform has been in turn depressing and baffling. We have reached the stage where it is apparent some people cannot get what they want from the current systems, and are now trying to advocate their own slants in the hope it will improve everybody’s wealth, and that’s where the bus is stopped, parked, and staunchly defended.

You do not get to change stuff because you believe you know better.

Ridiculous stupidity, in many forms, continues to happen with horrifying regularity. The Internet, like it or not, remains the Wild West with less law and more casualties. When absolutely everyone in your sphere states you’re wrong, that your outlook and attitude are the things at fault, you should already be on your way out of town. Except people don’t realise they’re the problem.

I had quite a long debate about this yesterday in the real world: is it wilful ignorance that makes people just ignore everyone else around them? Are these people too scared to ask for help? Is it just easier to keep doing the same old shit because anything new is too frightening? It is probably a bit of all of these, plus the overriding need to assuage those basic, inescapable urges. You know what I’m talking about.

If I had my way, all advertising would be banned on Twitter overnight: no political advertising either would be a start. Then everybody would have to graft for their own crusts on a level playing field. The winners would be the smart wordsmiths, and those who would manipulate their environment in the most artistic and entertaining fashion.

The reality of course is now it is impossible to separate these things from each other, thanks to the continued weaponization of personal data. I can get as angry as I like but nothing changes, so the future is slowly shifting towards less personal ire directed at the shit I can’t change and a redirection of energy to the stuff that can be.

It’s not perfect, but it’s a start.