Prose and musing by Sam I am.
Writer of cyberpunk, dystopian fiction, and nonfiction. Plus whatever drives me at the time.
Prose and musing by Sam I am.
Writer of cyberpunk, dystopian fiction, and nonfiction. Plus whatever drives me at the time.
It is hard not to become numb after a while. Especially when you see no other way, and even the end seems so pointless. Stepping off.
And for what? Haunting our waking dreams. And depression leads to boredom, and if we are not careful apathy, and in there lies the rub of it all.
It's where inertia lives. It is their playing field, and all they need is for you to step on. And you’re in if you fit the profile. If you don’t, runner-up it is.
So, you’re screaming at walls, whilst everyone else is screaming at each other, all so damn sure they're right, and of course, none of them are.
Because things are never that simple, there is no easy answer everyone should be able to agree on, maybe I am biased.
Being connected feels isolating it’s so intoxicated with hatred. To a point, I can’t breathe for the gurus that offer to save me, and for that, should I be blessed.
I can’t see it. Perhaps I was never really looking.
I am a lucky sod, in so many ways, and yet my life is far from remarkable. If you benchmark it against success.
I am sick of that conversation.
It leads to a lack of inspiration.
So maybe we should change it. But in order to do so you need people to actually be able tol listen. Past just what they want to hear, to something real, that might challenge the very foundations of their known reality.
But the essence is lost with a click and piled up with every swipe that hopes for the next dose, that always seems just out of reach..
Until we are ripe to radicalise in real-time. As they bid for our favour. Forecasting our every movement. Predicting when we expire. And turning our heads right when we can do the most damage.
Just be careful along the way. Our enemies may end up being our neighbours. And we might end up begging at their door.
My message is a bleak one, but that equally reflects my mood. These days they feel rotten, in a way I cannot define. It lingers is the air, a stench that is far from divine.
So, I step back.
Just out of frame.
---
artwork directed by me but created by wonder Ai
If you like what we are doing here there are currently a few ways to help us.
Why not trial Audible for free?
You help us out as an affiliate as we get £5 for you signing up. You get a free audiobook you can keep forever and you can cancel at the end of the trial with no obligation to buy any additional book!
Check out my Substack Book Projects, sign up to them to get the latest updates, and when the book is launched you will be sent a link to a free Kindle copy.