The Lost: Ghost Within the Shell
I turned 32, 1000 years ago, it seems. I’ve been trapped in this past of knowing the stories told through generations and the mystery of the universe that connects us all. The start of our paths to devoted work. The stories we keep telling ourselves to write our own fabricated reality.
Do you hear the bells?
The story of the world. Composting, recycling and becoming. Some stuck in a landfill towering above the soil, reeking of pollution and trash.
We’ve become ghosts and shapeshifters as we only see and connect with people at parties, varying differently then how they appear online.
Are we viewed as a self or are we perceived as a character in the play of reality?
Is truly reality, to highlight our existence online to be seen? For people to change their shape and form when they make a new identity online? Or does the screen only showcase how we perceive within our own minds eye. Some living in the future, some living in the past.
I began to wander outside the foxhole, connecting with others who were lost. Not all those who wander are lost, though. I’ve learned that we lost all connection within our current society due to the ghosts in the screens so focused on appearance and vanity over the reality of others’ true lives. The mind plays games of illusions, but I think I see it very clearly. The darkness we all share within our true bodies, but our spirits shine bright, emitting the colors of the rainbow.
The true ghost stories live within technological screens, haunting, or seeking connection. Our outcries for help in finding connection is lost. Personas created, alter egos developed, and non-selves cut deep into the souls of the living. Our voices are read, but never quite heard or seen. The algorithm tricks us to believe we are all followers and friends when we really don’t know anyone at all this way. We’re all decaying the body desperately seeking things we will never find online.
Human Nature is lost and darkly exposed, as we flow through our very natural feelings. Caught up in the anxiety and rage of the modern day. I found solace and freedom in the raining sky, the babbling brookes, and the strong oak trees that connect us to nature. To the natural, to the materials, to the things that take time to wither and decay. Sitting in the grass watching the trees wave to me and watch me with it’s compassionate eyes. I found my safety from the mystery online.
My mind connected to the sun and moon screams like a Winnebago and my spirit howls like a wolf. Desperate, lonely, and looking for an authentic connection to a like-mind. Hungry for something more than the silence and stillness of the home.
The natural world is full of sound and frequency that can be heard when we wander within the trees. Yet, though there is unity within ourselves, the mycelium and the roots of the trees. There is no unity within humanity. Fleeting conversations and forgotten faces and names as we carry on with our busy lives.
Humanity is nothing compared to nature. Human nature is existence of suffering. The Natural world will continue beyond our human nature of destruction and hierarchy. A structure of society created within a concrete jungle of stepping on others to rise to the top.
The war wages on within this apothroscene. We are playing our roles, as we try to survive. What are we surviving for? Nothingness and silence, to those who do not see or hear the cries of others or the cries of our past selves. Does anyone actually listen to these screams or is it the inner voice screaming for us to move forward within our own creation?
How does it begin without the connections we truly need? The ones who think with the Earth in mind. The ones who think positively or wonder how people are doing as they continue to try and connect. What is the missing piece to this worldly puzzle. For me the answer lies within your dreams.