Life on the Farm

I live in a digital enclave in which communities of people seek to isolate values into a game through approval and disapproval of social media content to consolidate meaning and identity.

My daily regimen consists of reflecting upon the total and complete arrest to the social norm that is developing a robust and ample framework in which to practice healthy consumption of media. I read that what I read shouldn’t be read. This makes me feel bad.

Of free will and apparent volition I surrender my self and the relative branding of my identity to this meaning game in which I seek to collect guarantees of autonomy and extended socioeconomic freedoms. How will I know who I am unless people tell me?

Through instantaneous communication and readily accessed platforms I can participate in this economy of sharing and liking mutual interests. I want to share what I love and only love things that I can share.

The attention, engagement and approval by my peers is the lingua franca, fiat currency and existential sustenance of my entire career and professional motivation. My friends are my life.

My peers are experienced and discerning with their discretion upon who deserves charity and support that is recognition of relevancy. I am fearful and scared of the spiritual death that is irrelevancy. Irrelevancy is to ultimately be lost among the cacophony of shrill voices that is bad content and awful memes. Am I even alive if I’m not relevant?

I must survive in this vast wilderness of digital media. I till my content with decency, goodness and hard work. The soil is fertile but days of fair weather are long gone. Dark clouds loom above. The storm is coming.

The storm has come.