Enamored by the flashing of light.
Our innovations, intended to bring us together,
are separating us–isolating us.
A novel flashing of light.
The human condition
is a lonely one,
wanting to be known by another
yet never fully understood by the other.
A light flashes.
With the innovations, invented to help us know more,
we have halted our learning of each other–
replaced it with a hastening of rhetorical non-sense.
A faster flashing of light.
The acceleration quickens with each advance.
There is a limit, but not of the advance:
of how much loneliness the human can handle
before looking for a replacement for family, tribe, and culture.
We begin to look for anything, so hastened,
we grasp the immediate,
too quickly shifting to recognize the consequences,
we grasp the prived and wrong family.
Another flashing of light.
The mobs come.
Reason, without thought of consequence,
a light suddenly dimmed.
The loudest voice overcomes the discourse.
Might does not make right, but all have succumbed under the hastening.
The next flashing of light.
This has all happened before.
Motus in fine velocior.