Losing and finding motivation in a fake online world.
The perception of reality is what rules the online world, yet reality is what we have to face in our flesh and bone lives. How does the perception change the reality of our lives?
The spinning stimulus the online world creates in our minds, balloons the creative ideas and then sends them shooting out the sides of the tornado. Catching these fleeting ideas and taking the time to express them becomes too arduous in a world of changing themes in the translucent hive mind concept.
Before the methodical writer chews on the idea and takes the time to process them into a clarifying expression, the winds of change blow in thousands more that distract and override the initial project.
The bots and human hackers, plying for greatness and attention, clamoring for a slice of the fake bot pie, have already exhausted every avenue of thought the masses are cornered into considering from social engineering tactics.
Attention is scarce, and more so when there is a thought or idea that hovers outside of the hive mind collective.
The creators in the copycat miasma, stack upon each other like the mockingbird media, all without any directives past the trending topics the hive mind spits out with consistent regularity. The formula for success, the way of the darkness, the evermore sardonic fuel for the fake masses infused with overstimulated robot minds.
The creative are floored, plastered upon the ceilings, outside the spinning toilet bowl of hive mind ideas. They throw their creations into the void, sowing a meaningful effort to a stumbling minority, as the crowds of bot-like hacks rush in with their copy cat studios and plush microphones, ready to tell us the news of the hour.
The living flesh and bones creatives, losing and finding motivation, speaking victory to the void; treating the online perception with contempt and disdain, seeing the fakeness and reeling from its powerful weakness. Nevertheless, throwing a clog in the wheels of retrograde progress, shinning light into an ever-growing abyss of idiocy and illusion, hoping for an eye of sight beyond the slithering snake-like hell within.
Paying attention reaps a reward, the slight conditioning that keeps us moving along, keeps us in the boiling pot until its too late. We are informed, we know more than ever, yet our minds are spinning out of control, unable to use this knowledge before the next big thing takes our attention away.
And the cycle continues, like a well-oiled machine, like an orchestrated supernatural social engineering calculation from big data analytics. Thousands of years of slow evolution have now hit the hyper-drive button by accident, and there is no way of turning it off, as the red alert beeps and bellows an ominous tune.
The hive mind collective is what matters, is the message we learn, by paying attention and going along, we find ourselves hypnotized by the cycle of stimulating madness. Thinking quietly, someone should do something, only to move on quickly to the next crisis, until we realize, the only thing someone should do is spin into a ball of robotic complexity that flies through the air gathering attention from the drooling onlookers, thus creating a spectacle of nonsensical gibberish, and finding this catapults one to attention seeking heights unheard of with normal conversations and wise counsels.
The next thing they know, they are being invited to social media conventions, given awards for their creative genius, and sent digits on screens that give them access to even more attention. They have graduated to the robotic merits granted to elite non-thinking morons, and beloved they become in pieces of humanity sown into a cyborg demon. Well done hive mind collective, you have been granted the attention you so deserve.
Now, as for those who have resisted the robotic fakeness, how could you be so shameful. You deserve negative attention, you are the problem of course, for making sense, for being real, how could you!
The show goes on, the attention seekers clamor for more, and the real creatives go silent in the madness, instead opting to create art for their pet dogs and cats, even their fish. God appreciates reality, one day, their steadfast faith in the truth will prevail, thus they find motivation again, and express such to the hive mind masses to little avail past meaningful inspiration to do what is right.
To do what is right and true, even in a world of fakeness and lies.
The spinning stimulus the online world creates in our minds, balloons the creative ideas and then sends them shooting out the sides of the tornado. Catching these fleeting ideas and taking the time to express them becomes too arduous in a world of changing themes in the translucent hive mind concept.
Before the methodical writer chews on the idea and takes the time to process them into a clarifying expression, the winds of change blow in thousands more that distract and override the initial project.
The bots and human hackers, plying for greatness and attention, clamoring for a slice of the fake bot pie, have already exhausted every avenue of thought the masses are cornered into considering from social engineering tactics.
Attention is scarce, and more so when there is a thought or idea that hovers outside of the hive mind collective.
The creators in the copycat miasma, stack upon each other like the mockingbird media, all without any directives past the trending topics the hive mind spits out with consistent regularity. The formula for success, the way of the darkness, the evermore sardonic fuel for the fake masses infused with overstimulated robot minds.
The creative are floored, plastered upon the ceilings, outside the spinning toilet bowl of hive mind ideas. They throw their creations into the void, sowing a meaningful effort to a stumbling minority, as the crowds of bot-like hacks rush in with their copy cat studios and plush microphones, ready to tell us the news of the hour.
The living flesh and bones creatives, losing and finding motivation, speaking victory to the void; treating the online perception with contempt and disdain, seeing the fakeness and reeling from its powerful weakness. Nevertheless, throwing a clog in the wheels of retrograde progress, shinning light into an ever-growing abyss of idiocy and illusion, hoping for an eye of sight beyond the slithering snake-like hell within.
Paying attention reaps a reward, the slight conditioning that keeps us moving along, keeps us in the boiling pot until its too late. We are informed, we know more than ever, yet our minds are spinning out of control, unable to use this knowledge before the next big thing takes our attention away.
And the cycle continues, like a well-oiled machine, like an orchestrated supernatural social engineering calculation from big data analytics. Thousands of years of slow evolution have now hit the hyper-drive button by accident, and there is no way of turning it off, as the red alert beeps and bellows an ominous tune.
The hive mind collective is what matters, is the message we learn, by paying attention and going along, we find ourselves hypnotized by the cycle of stimulating madness. Thinking quietly, someone should do something, only to move on quickly to the next crisis, until we realize, the only thing someone should do is spin into a ball of robotic complexity that flies through the air gathering attention from the drooling onlookers, thus creating a spectacle of nonsensical gibberish, and finding this catapults one to attention seeking heights unheard of with normal conversations and wise counsels.
The next thing they know, they are being invited to social media conventions, given awards for their creative genius, and sent digits on screens that give them access to even more attention. They have graduated to the robotic merits granted to elite non-thinking morons, and beloved they become in pieces of humanity sown into a cyborg demon. Well done hive mind collective, you have been granted the attention you so deserve.
Now, as for those who have resisted the robotic fakeness, how could you be so shameful. You deserve negative attention, you are the problem of course, for making sense, for being real, how could you!
The show goes on, the attention seekers clamor for more, and the real creatives go silent in the madness, instead opting to create art for their pet dogs and cats, even their fish. God appreciates reality, one day, their steadfast faith in the truth will prevail, thus they find motivation again, and express such to the hive mind masses to little avail past meaningful inspiration to do what is right.
To do what is right and true, even in a world of fakeness and lies.
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