The People with Scrolling Thumbs

It is easy to navigate. It is easy to move down. See what happened...or what happens. For past and present no longer makes sense. I can navigate with a smooth flow, flashing images, videos, words, cries, emotions, appeals, taking it all in, taking it all out. Missing the things I care, and only seeing what hurts. Indifference to it all can only hurt in the banality of life. Simpleton you are and simpletons we will stay. The harder steps fade, the reach of the hand, the twist of the tongue, the clinch of my brain...all too much to bear. And run along smoothly through that list of people, friends, acquaintances, one-night-stands, inmates, colleagues, ridiculous links to a life that does not exist, a life we do not belong to.

It is easy to get the multitudes. There is more out there than you. There will always be. There is always more and it will flow, flow through me and past, in a forever present. Evergreen. Ever plastic. Up and down blown by the winds of change. Scrolling will make me forget to forget. Forget to forgive. Forget to heal the wounds of time. Perennial rage and narcissism will prevail through mind and bones. Those eyes staring at you will become a symbol of revenge, of disdainful hopelessness. And we shall all become thumbs not good enough to ok what we really like, to ok what we really mean, to ok what we love and what we've forsaken.

Scrolling down you won't find anything. It is easy to look for it aimlessly but you won't find it. It is not there and it will never be because it never was...