I try to write about things from life. Such that inspire me, pick my brain or just make me feel something. Things, I believe need to be heard. That will help somebody out there.
However, I am not always sure if The Word Smoothie Blog is the place for my thoughts. Some feel too personal. Some, too dark. If my desire is to inspire and motivate others, is this the way?
Then I realize this is exactly why I should do it.
I am born a writer. Not because I am the best at it, nor due to my book’s bestseller status. I am a writer, because I need to write. I feel the call to put all the thoughts in my mind out there. And that’s what writers do. What they ever did. How it all began – with people who needed to express all that was kept in and put it in beautiful words. Words do have the power to turn even the ugliest story into a beautiful poem.
And so, I write…
The reality we live in is an interesting thing. As people say, we are more connected than ever and yet, so far away. We own phones, laptops, earphones, chargers, batteries… extra batteries. Everything to keep this digital machine running.
So, here I am. Sitting in a train full of people, feeling completely alone.
Remember when people had stories about the people they meet on the road? Yeah, that doesn’t happen anymore.
People don’t talk. They listen. Just not to each other.
We all live in small bubbles of internet connection and our only interaction with the world outside it is as an object for our Instagram stories. Inspiring.
I am sitting here, and I feel tired. Tired of the world we ended up in. Of everything we gave so much meaning to – our jobs, all of our devices, clothes and personal belongings. Everything in our materialistic pockets that nowadays represents us.
Funny. I am tired and still crave them all. More materialistic than most of you. Cause humans are complicated folk, eh? I told you so.
I am tired of the silence. Not that nobody speaks. But what is being said? All we care about are our bills, jobs and cars.
I am sick of listening to people. And yet, I want to hear them talk. Talk about the things of meaning, we lost along the way. About the art, the mind, the soul and the universe. About something bigger than we are.
I have become a bit of a cynic, I noticed. I don’t see people. I see the flesh. The skin. The movement in the muscles. The highlights of the bones. I see the box, but it is empty. Is that what makes us people? Is this what differentiates us from the animals?
Correct me if I am wrong, but ants have jobs as well. They might not do sales or IT, but they also have tasks on which their well-being depends. If they don’t find food – there is none. If they don’t build homes – no one does it for them. They may not have monetary payment, but the principle is the same. Ants work and most probably also complain of their jobs. They also commute and rest when tired.
Most animals feel affection. They live in couples and care for each other.
They do all that fills in our everyday lives.
And yet, we say humans are different. We are not primitive. We are complex, civilized creatures. We gave birth to astronomy, to philosophy and politics. We went out of the way of our animal existence and expanded into something more. We looked for God and found our own glory.
Yet, what is left by this glorious mind is a shell. I feel like not only the financial gap in society is growing. But the one in our minds as well.
How did we go from Plato to motivational speakers? From Aristotle to people quoting themselves on Instagram. So badly, on top of it. From glorious novels to clickbait stories for shares. From beautiful words and descriptive language to 200-character tweets with abbreviations.
I feel lost in all the noise and I cannot find mindfulness. And I desperately need to find some meaning in all of this. Yet, the more I look, the more it seems like a signal lost in space.
People used to find meaning in religion. Now we are religious by association. Because we were born in a certain setting. Even if we lack any belief.
We constantly speak about motivation. Yet, we cannot find any to even cook our own food.
We share and spread awareness of empty causes and meaningless texts and photos. While just outside our doors there are many stories that need to be heard.
We blog in shopping lists and write 80-page books.
We are less deep than a Billie Eilish song and yet have fun of all the teenage girls “relating” to them.
I am telling you, it is a funny world we live in. Especially when trying to put all its ridiculousness into words. Even George Orwell lacks the imagination to come up with the situation we exist in.
I guess discussing the decline of civilizations has existed since the beginning of civilizations themselves. The Romans complained about the barbarians. The Christians denounced the pagans. And here we are, where anyone is against everyone and everything is somehow broken.
Still, I am unhappy in such a world. And even though I have become more of a cynic, I still believe there is more to life than fake social media deep. Much more in the world around us. But most importantly, so much more to us than an empty shell.
It all comes to life when we push our everyday routine away, get a drink or two and start talking. Real talk, not about the weather or the news. When we open our minds for the thoughts, dreams and ideas of somebody else.
Our minds can be such a magic. We have so much stored inside us. All our scars and all our lessons. Beautiful stories, waiting to be out in the open world. To be heard and to be felt.
So, let’s talk about the universe…