All day long I stare into a screen. A screen which provides me news, entertainment, laughter, joy, sadness, hope, inspiration, apathy, contempt and boredom.
Wether it's a 4 inch screen, a 9 inch screen, a 15 in screen, a 27 inch screen or a 54 inch screen - it doesn't matter. The soft glow of a computer has dominated my life. I sit like a zombie, staring, typing, reading, watching, scrolling.
The screen has taken over my life. It's radiance is killing my eyes and zapping my brain.
I rarely paint, I rarely talk, I rarely engage with other humans - as we're all doing the pretty much the same thing. Being social by being anti social. Staying informed within closed doors. Writing to no one, sharing with everyone. Lying, coercing, creating perceptions of the perfect world we attempt to pretend to live.
Only when I'm outside of the hum of a computer do I feel alive, yet I spend more than half of my life zoned out in the confines of an office chair. Only when I'm engaging with others face to face do I sincerely laugh, or think, or engage, yet I continue to sit and stare and click.
Click. Click. Click.
Type. Type. Type.
What did I do before this screen I barely remember? When I was only a young teenager did the computer come into my home. I'd wait patiently as the dial tone brought up e-mail, rarely of any importance. I'd sit in the dark, worried to be caught, as pixel by pixel of naked girls slowly appeared on the screen. I'd start conversations with strangers in chat rooms and build fake relationships with random people, many of whom I can't remember nor do I want to. In high school there was a computer in every room, in college they gave us our own laptops, in my professional career I take a picture digitally, look at the screen and spend countless hours clicking, sliding, typing to deliver digital images to clients. Everything is digital.
Only the food I eat, the air I breathe, the water I drink, the furniture I sit on is real. Is this all real? What happens when the cloud fades away? What happens when there is no electricity to power our second brains? What happens when an earthquake hits and swallows up all the electronics? What happens when Google Glass is second nature, robots make everything we own and we're in more of a digital trance then we are now?
How do I break this addiction to the screen? I see children, often time my own, entranced with silly games, digitally conversing with their friends, wasting countless hours watching dulling videos, shows and using important brain power with worthless noise.
Only when I'm outside enjoying nature do I feel alive. The embrace of my wife, of my children, the hug of a friend or the eye contact with a stranger reminds me I'm human. That I have the most powerful computer inside of my own head. That the intricate workings on my body continue to work only by being recharged by natural sleep and consumption of natural fuel. The universe continues to work no matter if my phone is charged. The sun still shines regardless if my computer turns on. Birds still sing, plants still grow, rain still comes regardless if I'm caught up on the latest episode of Mad Men. My children continue to grow regardless if my inbox is down to 0. My wife still loves, and needs love, regardless of the next Facebook post. The world is still beautiful wether or not I share it on Instagram.
These are all things I need to be reminded of as I'm just a few clicks from turning off the machines for the day.
Wether it's a 4 inch screen, a 9 inch screen, a 15 in screen, a 27 inch screen or a 54 inch screen - it doesn't matter. The soft glow of a computer has dominated my life. I sit like a zombie, staring, typing, reading, watching, scrolling.
The screen has taken over my life. It's radiance is killing my eyes and zapping my brain.
I rarely paint, I rarely talk, I rarely engage with other humans - as we're all doing the pretty much the same thing. Being social by being anti social. Staying informed within closed doors. Writing to no one, sharing with everyone. Lying, coercing, creating perceptions of the perfect world we attempt to pretend to live.
Only when I'm outside of the hum of a computer do I feel alive, yet I spend more than half of my life zoned out in the confines of an office chair. Only when I'm engaging with others face to face do I sincerely laugh, or think, or engage, yet I continue to sit and stare and click.
Click. Click. Click.
Type. Type. Type.
What did I do before this screen I barely remember? When I was only a young teenager did the computer come into my home. I'd wait patiently as the dial tone brought up e-mail, rarely of any importance. I'd sit in the dark, worried to be caught, as pixel by pixel of naked girls slowly appeared on the screen. I'd start conversations with strangers in chat rooms and build fake relationships with random people, many of whom I can't remember nor do I want to. In high school there was a computer in every room, in college they gave us our own laptops, in my professional career I take a picture digitally, look at the screen and spend countless hours clicking, sliding, typing to deliver digital images to clients. Everything is digital.
Only the food I eat, the air I breathe, the water I drink, the furniture I sit on is real. Is this all real? What happens when the cloud fades away? What happens when there is no electricity to power our second brains? What happens when an earthquake hits and swallows up all the electronics? What happens when Google Glass is second nature, robots make everything we own and we're in more of a digital trance then we are now?
How do I break this addiction to the screen? I see children, often time my own, entranced with silly games, digitally conversing with their friends, wasting countless hours watching dulling videos, shows and using important brain power with worthless noise.
Only when I'm outside enjoying nature do I feel alive. The embrace of my wife, of my children, the hug of a friend or the eye contact with a stranger reminds me I'm human. That I have the most powerful computer inside of my own head. That the intricate workings on my body continue to work only by being recharged by natural sleep and consumption of natural fuel. The universe continues to work no matter if my phone is charged. The sun still shines regardless if my computer turns on. Birds still sing, plants still grow, rain still comes regardless if I'm caught up on the latest episode of Mad Men. My children continue to grow regardless if my inbox is down to 0. My wife still loves, and needs love, regardless of the next Facebook post. The world is still beautiful wether or not I share it on Instagram.
These are all things I need to be reminded of as I'm just a few clicks from turning off the machines for the day.
