It was my last girlfriend who tried to wean me off it- Twitter. Though pointing out that it was taking over my life and, without me even realising it, detonating any chance of trying to make our relationship work, I refused to listen. I was lost to the clutter of 140 words or less. Instead of there being one less bell to answer, it was adding another empty online junkie’s lament dressed and disguised as some bluebird of happiness. Progress has created some dangerous addictions. It might explain much about a world having lost its way. Lost with no direction of home. Refusing to recognise the tell tale signs.
It’s so easy to do this that one does it without thinking: Pressing that ‘like’ button on social media. We’ve all been guilty of it at one time or another, but it really must be reined in if we’re ever going to return to being selective about things and people. It’s very much part of trying to put the indiscriminate genie of social media back in the bottle and try to get our priorities right again. And stop talking emoji while at it.
We’ve been lost for far too long and the visual below really hit home with a mighty thud about dating, love, relationships, the lack of trust, the addiction to materialism and mainly a loss of focus and understanding of life’s priorities.
It was only a matter of time before #MeToo broke the sound barrier and entered the music industry though I must say that from where I was, I never saw anything untoward going on, certainly not in the UK and not in the Asia Pacific region. The U.S. I can’t talk about because it was foreign soil. But #MeToo continues to “trend” and one has to wonder what other industries will be swept along with what has mainly been a Hollywood created red carpet product and whether there will be some surprising U-turns and curve balls and where it’s all going to end.
The world can’t afford to be walking on eggshells and looking over one’s shoulder. It’s not the way to get on with life. It’s not providing any answers other than creating an environment of fear.
It’s about priorities- and finding them again and then, when they are found, the realisation that these are priorities to you and maybe not to everyone else. It’s about being more exclusive and with no need to run with the pack, especially those “met” in the sleepy hollow of the online world who suck you in and lead you down that rabbit hole of nothingness where many live or are stuck.
Once upon a Tomorrow Never Knows, many of us couldn’t wait to grow up, spread our wings, gain our independence and fly off to unknown lands where there were uncharted waters and adventures to be discovered and lived. We couldn’t wait. We took walks on the wild side. Some of us survived, a few fell through the cracks. We moved on and often took some bravely stupid steps.
We fell in love, we fell out of love, we stayed in love and got married. We had children and became domesticated. Domesticated. It’s a funny word. Often it means giving up and becoming what you promised yourself you’d never become. But you did, yes, you did, yes, you did and the penny finally dropped. There was the realisation that you had become everything you never thought you would be: Boring. But having made one’s bed, there was a need to lie in it at least for a while. Guilt pangs surfaced when wondering if this was just living a lie. Often it was- a lethal cocktail of falling in lust, thinking it was love until that train dropped you off at the right station. It was fun while it lasted, but it was just a U2 song.
Watching the recent spate of awards shows supposedly to acknowledge and celebrate the arts- films, film makers, actresses, actors- please, Natalie Portman, note that actresses were mentioned before actors- musicians, music etc etc, what one has been exposed to is a Hollywood made chain reaction of politics, sermons, self righteous indignation, and hashtags. What the hell was Hillary Clinton doing appearing at the Grammys? There’s Bruno Mars and then there’s Hills reading from the book “Fire And Fury”? Enormously stupid move.
The reading of #FireAndFury and the #Grammys was one of the lowest class things I have ever witnessed on television and I dont get why Hillary Clinton continues to embarrass herself.
Instead of taking a break from #MeToo and #TimesUp, these award shows have become another platform to pummel the senses with speeches and sideshows that often ring hollow as it is more of the same- the same old crocodile tears on the same background, the . same old same old with no answers, no solutions, and no answers to And now what? Time’s up is a nice enough term for a hashtag, and the message behind it, but surely it must be more? How is this hashtag and rah rah speeches from celebrities going to achieve what everyone hopes they achieve?
Let’s call it The Hashtag Generation. Gawd knows where it started, but I’m guessing it was in a galaxy not that far away called the online world and not that long ago when it was de rigeur to embrace social media and talk about SEO’s- Search Engine Optimisation- and how the “right” hashtags would, or could. elevate one’s “status” on Google, which meant ease of discovery that would result in more visitors to one’s website. Or something like that.
Today, we’re drowning in hashtags- #blacklivesmatter #whitelivesmatter #policelivesmatter #alllivesmatter- and with “metoo and #timesup now leading the charge with Queen Oprah of America in the starring role and ably assisted by aides Meryl Streep, Reese Witherspoon, Nicole Kidman and others with that almighty Star Power.
The problem with marriage is getting married. The love might be there, but, somehow, the romance leaves. There’s also almost a need to act “married” for everyone else, which can cause many seasons of discontent between a couple that are sometimes never resolved. They’re left hanging until those grapes of wrath sour forever and open warfare begins.
Though Trina and I were very much in love and enjoying being parents to Taryn, things were changing. Call it a shift in priorities, but these changes signalled moving in different directions without us even realising it and never trying to heal those wounds that were surfacing. Internal wounds are the most difficult to heal as they’re the enemy within. But we seldom address this problem. We wait until it’s too late and think counselling with some stranger will help. It never does. It just puts a band aid on a problem that continues to fester, or if dismissing this as psychobabble, one plays the game to keep everyone happy with pat answers. This should not be allowed to happen. But we stupidly let it. Of course, everyone’s different…
There’s a song that starts off, “It’s been building up inside of me for a long long time.” And the build up to bid a final Adieu to especially Facebook has been tremendous. It’s been about kicking any type of addiction and that weakness to feel needed.