But consumerism makes it impossible to value what matters most
If you’re reading this, it’s safe to assume you’ve managed to keep yourself alive so far as there’s no wifi six feet under. And there’s no consciousness in a corpse either although it’s becoming harder to tell whether humans are alive or dead these days.
Or even conscious.
In this capitalistic monsterhood that passes for a society, many of us go through life in zombie mode, juggling and hoping we don’t drop the ball. Any ball. Be it a professional or a personal one, or a pétanque one if you’re French and you like to live dangerously as those balls are made of metal. And no, the sport isn’t just the preserve of seniors — I learned to play as a kid with my Papi and there were many, many crushed toes and wayward projectiles.
We’re too exhausted to pay attention to the seemingly insignificant things that are nuggets of joy in disguise. To wit, feline purrs and headbutts, soup some you love made for you, the rustle of leaves on a windy day, the squawk of a seagull, the smell of the ocean…
As a result, those who shout the loudest are the ones whose message registers, which is unfelicitous news in a culture of bluster and bullshit.
“Look at me, I’m successful, I’m self-made, and I have descended to this earthly plane to show you exactly how it’s done so you can upgrade your loser mindset.”
Oh, and by the way I have a beachfront condo for sale in Iowa, so close to the shore you can watch the tide come in as you listen to the seagulls.