Simulations to our Detriment

We communicate today to our detriment, in a way that separates us, takes us further away, further into a simulation. We no longer exist in the real and our ability to function as humans were meant to function is now lost. Or rather, we are losing. We are simulations. Hidden. Dying.

If we meet someone, on the street, face to face, as part of a dance, we function best. We see the face, hear the tones, read signs. We exist. On the phone we fair less well. We cannot gauge gestures but we can still know because if nothing else the ascent and descent of the voice tells stories still in a three dimensional form. By email we remove ourselves once more from reality, but at least we carry words in intelligent depth, unfortunately still losing, but at least having the ability to reach into our own minds to formulate words for as long as it takes.

But a new distance has been created and it's a distance that takes us the furthest we've ever been from the real. We text. In short bursts we text. And in this new world we have truly left the real, we have become nothing but simulations. We create nothing but simulations. The relationships we form are not relationships but a simulation of a relationship. We are no longer responsible, held accountable, ourselves. We are a shade hollow and less than two dimensional. We have completely separated ourselves from utter truth.

A text is but a weak hook to feel close to a humanity we are no longer a part of. We have chosen to exist with so little. Our path is tenuous. Those we draw in or are drawn in by play a game of false perpetuation.

Let us know that we fail today and are drawing our last breath. The short type is nothing but the death of interaction. I'll shun it from here on.