Our fleeting moments are commodified for your red bubbles and blue ticks that gnaw on our psyches. Our spaces of creation have become purposeless and industrialised.
We long beyond the awareness of time to where there is just one thing.
One thing to do,
One place to be,
One life to live.
But we lost it all to pseudo-productivity, mindless scroll activity and data mining longevity. We gave up the right to attention to live a life in the fast lane, entangled to the digital plane.
...to spark my pockets, buzz my wrist, ping my mind and call my eyes? I did.
When I checked your box, signed on the line and tapped the bright button, I gave it all away. We all did.
Why wouldn’t I? Your missions are in my favour, your colours cause eyes to savour, you claim to be my saviour.
But I’ll say verse after verse, recall time and time again where you claimed my seconds turned minutes turned hours turned days, lifetimes, you mined my mind of all its attention.
A witness to it all with a stapled mouth in your attention court. If the judge won’t strike thrice then I’ll do it myself.
Strike one, my space, it’s personal, I need it back.
Strike two, digital bliss, I miss it, taking control.
Strike three, the now is nigh, live in it, thrive in it.
The chapters are written, the stories will emerge and in the great epilogue, your power thwarts. The bubble of your economy will finally burst and sweet focus will rain down on the people.
That is our mission, our ethos, our power.
Prepare your worst. We are coming for you.
