On the Road

The World Wide Web is the bestest worst invention of our time. A communication marathon with no end in sight and are we really typing anything worth saying?

Aren’t we supposed to feel more connectedness with this amazing technology?

I don’t.

I feel very disconnected because I choose not to be in tune with the daily gossip.I watch very little TV and pay no attention to the news and could truly careless about today’s top tweets. Yes, yes I know - I’m a hypocrite because I too twitter. However, I do so out of feeling like I am suppose to. But really no one gives a shit about it, they just need a distraction. We’re a nation, distracted.

Just because you feel tuned in doesn’t make you in touch. Strike that, our world is distracted.

Today, I attempted to tune out all distractions and tune into myself. I chose not to leave my hotel room. I slept in, got up and had room service and then took a nap. I caught myself checking email and stopped. I choose NOT to give two poops about it. I don’t want to feel like I must be connected at all times because the longer one is connected, the further the disconnect from oneself.

It’s sad to see people sitting in a park, at a bar or on a plane staring at a square. You can see the preoccupation with what ever is on their screen, oblivious to others around them, preoccupied to the exclusion of all else.

We twitter more and talk less. Twe’ve lost the art of connecting with another human being unless we use the platform called Facebook. We wake up and take our computers to the toilet for a poop and instant message via Skype. We text morning, noon and night. When we do make a call, we secretly hope for voice mail. This amazing invention that should draw people closer, make the world a smaller place and more accessible to keep in touch and meet new people from around the world, however it’s become the modern day decline of articulation, conversation and decorum.

I declare it has us scared in the corner because without a glowing screen and a key board - we don’t know what to say. The alter egos cannot leave the computer long enough to walk outside and meet someone organically and sit down to talk with out checking the blackberry because we welcome the diversion that someone just friended us. As I type this, I hear birds chirping in the park across from my posh Boston hotel room. The sun is setting, the city is all a glow in golden grandeur and warm breeze is glorious and the church bells in the distance ring to let me know its 8pm.

Now get the fuck off your computer, stopping reading my bullshit and go outside.

The internet makes us all obtuse.

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