We’re all in a hurry. We’ll be damned if we spend eight seconds to actually observe where we are rather than dragging out our damn smartphone to check our e-mail and/or texts for the 118th time of the day. Forget reality, the digital world is so much better, right? No, but everybody thinks it is.
I’ve spent an awful lot of time traveling lately. New job, new responsibilities, and a new routine. Be careful what job you wish for, folks. You just might hate it an awful lot. But if you’re lucky, as you hate it, you’ll also discover that it has certain gifts. Like how it challenges and grows you in ways you’d otherwise not appreciate had you played it safe.
Anyways …, after traveling more times in the last four months than the last four years I’ve determined everybody is sprinting to the grave. We’re just in an awful big hurry. Folks run through airports, push through lines, jump through the security gates like the government pawns actually care, and generally are just total assholes. And even when they get the privilege of doing nothing, like sitting at the airport gate? Well, within two seconds the smartphone is out and they are either working or texting people whose names they can’t remember.
Hey, remember what it must have been like for a medieval farmer? The grinding daily toil involved only talking to perhaps one-hundred people in his entire life? And generally he moved at speeds that today would target him as worthy of a “mental retardation” diagnosis? Well, how quaint was that? You’re so fast and awesome that you can output the knowledge of all his life in six texts while you drink your $8 coffee and shove your way through the line. “Out of my way eight year old little girl, you’re just too weak!”
I have determined that the worst offenders of this trend are, to my surprise, upper-middle-aged men accompanying their wives. They move really fast, are on electronics every possible second, eat like starving rats, are short/angry with their wives, and move so fast that every second is apparently their last. Except that it’s not, they just look like they’re on freaking meth.
(mumbling) What? (mumbling) Where did that mirror come from? (mumbling) Well, fuck you, buddy, now listen… (mumbling) Yeah? (mumbling) Okay, yeah, maybe. (mumbling) Okay, yeah, okay…
So, …, so I guess if you’re going to violate the laws of God and shit on your fellow man, perhaps you might as well admit that what really bothers you is you maybe see a shadow of your future self in such madness. But then again, I have a phone that’s five years old and is held in place by fear. So who really cares? Well, me I guess.
Due to the aforementioned topics, I did something super insane, by my definition, a few weeks ago. I was super late, that almost never happens, and just to see what I could discover, I sat down in a chair and absorbed reality for a bit. What, you say? So, are you just a freak? Well, yes, but I challenge you, friends:
The next time you are very late for [something] I want to you to do this:
a) Briefly consider what your skeleton will look like after five years in the drink
b) Sit in a chair for five minutes and stare at the wall while you know you are extremely late
c) Bask in how absolutely nothing major in your life changes as a result
None of us is this important. We’re all going too fast. We all just need to calm down and enjoy life because we’re all dust very soon. Slow down. Be forgiving to your fellow man and woman. We’re all in this together. Enjoy it while you can.
Whether I’m in heaven, hell, or nowhere, I assure you, I can’t remember that time I was late for something.