Technology

I’m stuck swinging within the gears Of this wretched technology That sends electric shocks of blunt awareness down the Bones in my fingers, Awareness of my loneliness Whenever I cease to engage In frivolous chatter, Tap-tap-tapping out words Just for the sake of saying something, Anything, To fill the air. I had no clue before I got stuck in That my thoughts are not as valuable In silence as in print. I really didn’t know That something interesting Is a hundred times more interesting If I tell everybody About it. But now I am informed, I am modern, And I know all of this. I know and I Conform to it. My fingers are a flurry of movement, A fuzzy, unfocused Blur, Racing to keep up with my mind, With current events, With my friends’ jokes And my family’s stories, With experiences And shopping trips And movies And lousy customers And cute acquaintances And carryover teen angst And the soaring sky at dusk Clearly showing off for the cameras And the smartphones, Singing its colors for the sole reason of Achieving viral fame. I’m subconsciously sprinting To keep up with the rest of the world, All of these people Racing Racing Racing To post the cutest, prettiest, Happiest, coolest, most amazing or Crazy or mindboggling Exaggerations Because we can no longer experience something Without sharing, posting, tweeting, texting it To show the world What a beautiful, amusing, fantastic, meaningful life I live Now that you can view every little piece of it And I really hope you like it, (I really hope you like me) Because until you do I won’t know How to feel about it (or how to feel about myself.) And as I wait I’ll text 10 of my friends 20 different thoughts That mean nothing In a desperate attempt to ensure That somebody, somewhere, is thinking about me, To ensure that I’m still so special and so important, To ensure that I don’t disappear.