I warned the audience.
I’m stepping away. Why? Don’t leave, come back, and 100 plus people were supposed to say something. I asked for words of hope, words of promise, and out of the 100 or so people that are tagged as my friend in the social media landscape, only a handful responded. Those same people have my phone number. What is this? This mesh that we are stuck in?
I stepped back.
What good are the functions of our socializing if they don’t serve our simple purpose of communication? When one is hurting, is all we can do is click a button?
What happened to our humanity? Where is our concern?
Why are you worried? Why do you worry?
The stories of those that live in worry, the bad guy, the thug, the villain that knows the law is coming. Pablo Escobar I am not, but even he died a death that I wish to not explore, yet in social media land, the osmosis of our emotions gets filtered into pieces of ourselves. We lose. You lose. No one wins.
It’s the race of standing still. Start to move forward, and you’re a blur. Stand still, and they see you. They watch you. They want you for a moment, then passive-aggressively throw messages. When you ask, is that about me? They say no. They are lying. You are lying to yourself. You move on.
This is osmosis land.
The science of social media sounds like an oxymoron, and yet there are people that are dedicating their discipline, their lives, and banking on the career path that focuses solely on the defining lines of social media interaction, depression, and more.
Instead of feeding my pride, it’s time to pull it to the side. Let the inner man grow, because he’s been beaten with a baseball bat. A constant abuse, a simple plan, and yet it stung so hard. It’s time to migrate to an edge where you cannot find a promised land. Jumping is not the goal. But seeing the future requires you to get up out of the Nile, up from the pile, and ask to be given a faith like Enoch. Then, only then, can you escape the depths of soma.
Living in osmosis land, we lose ourselves. We are filtered through, we become pieces. We no longer feel the reality of a new hope. We need to leave. Come with me. Or don’t.
One thing is for sure, I’m migrating to an edge, in favor of a more deliberate share point, because somehow along the way, we have lost our first love. We have lost ourselves amidst the cave, and now that my manacles have been taken off, I cannot bring anyone with me.
Leave osmosis land or stay in a place where you slowly throw daggers at those that love you.
Remember the fact that the same people that will rejoice your triumphant entrance into the gates, are the same people that will watch you get crucified. From palms and praise to an execution.
This is osmosis land.