Sunday Scribblings

This week's word is Disconnected:

I was, and still am, an addict. I check my email upwards of seventy times a day, answer a nauseating number of phone calls, mindlessly troll the internet for news updates and am (regrettably) a member of a certain online social network. As I often feel (in order to justify my insanity), I have my finger on the pulse of everything (and nothing). I use to think (and sure I will again tomorrow when my jet lag fades) that the barrage of information made me happy, when in reality, nonstop “feeds”, like anything else, is an absurd excuse for true human interaction. In fact, I find myself being so little to so many that I have nothing left for the things and people I truly care about. This past two weeks I was abroad without any meaningful contact with the outside world, and while I had my moments of panic—what if (I am needed at work)(someone is injured)(the world in caving in around us)—I found that silence, and the free time I gained from not “checking in”, afforded me time I did not know (or refused to acknowledge) I was missing and allowed me to decompress, something I have not done in years. The long and the short of it is, I think we should all be disconnected from the existence we have created for ourselves, and go back to the days when we actually talked with people in person, got our news once a day from the paper, and never worried about what we could be missing simply by living a normal, non-roped life.