The noise over the wire is immense and inescapable and the cruel irony is that when the noise is silent one wonders if they still exist.
Not knowing life elsewhere I can only speculate but here in the hinterlands one becomes obsessed with the feed. It’s like finding that one live show on in the middle of an insomniatic night. You don’t have to be alone. You have twitter.
I’d say Facebook but unless you strategically position your friends across the globe there will still be gaps in the live feed. At some point everyone goes offline.
The key is to make sure that there are others.
But even this isn’t enough. You can only watch so many other people live their lives for you. At some point you will also need attention and confirmation of existence.
So we join the feed.
The feed becomes our means of communication. It humors us and makes us believe that we’re not just another noise on the wire.
And we also willingly believe it because we don’t want to believe that we’re just sitting in a room, communicating with other noise. Ignoring the silence.
This is the darkness.
This silence is not real. It isn’t the absence of physical noise but the absence of movement in a wire or waves in the air.
It is being alone in a room and knowing it.