Stooped over the tiny screen,
killing time, scrolling past atrocities, war zones, awful things
happening to strangers in other lands, pouting girls facing off the
world with a narcissism fuelled by insecurity - a cry for help.
Overloading on blue light, dopamine stimulation, and all the horrors
and beauty of the world. Must be like being God, but to care about it
all? No way. The burden. Sitting in a waiting room, she unwittingly
takes on the burden. Lunchtime in the work canteen, she and her
colleagues connect with the burden - faces down, eyes and minds
filled with the never-ending input of humanity's multifaceted
expressions.
But the burden numbs her. Overloads
her. Guilt-trips her. She cannot care.
Walking
through town she sees an elderly man has taken a fall. She cannot
scroll past her own reality - nothing in her wants to. She runs
over to help him. She is relieved he is ok. She is relieved she
cares.
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