The Fish are Flopping

...and I don't mean the actual fish in the lake...

The internet, entertainment, and media complex wants you disconnected from life.

This shows up in a violent vomit upon attention with advertisement temptations everywhere, some obvious, some bribery, some temptations, some subliminal and some talking heads.

Everything you haven’t accepted about yourself is met with a lure to “fix.”

They need you to think something is wrong or to be afraid of in order to sell-sell-sell.

Everyone who buys the lures keeps going back for more bites not realizing they have been “caught” like a fish on a hook.

I don’t say this to poke at anyone but myself, because I’m still unhooking after already removing a large lifelong collection of wtf was I doing.

The more I un-hook, the better I feel.

Less is truly more.

Self-Help Gurus hype people up in the same way broadcasters sell excitement at the bread-and-circus arenas of distraction, disembodiment, and distortion.

Nothing changes.

The hooks sink in and the aura is pierced.

Loosh leaks out like blood.

Unhooking means falling into the unknown.

It’s easier to just look up at the holder of the hook and plead for mercy than release thyself and swim away into the void.

The “phishing” hook is for your safety.

The bait flashes “for your protection.”

How dare nature just exists as it is without someone to attempt to ”control” it...they always fail but the desire to control never seems to wane. There is always a replacement ready to fill the seats.

The nets of the world-wide-web were cast long ago.

The fish only begin to thrash when it’s too late to escape.

They think, “I should have listened,” but the end is nigh.

It’s too late…

But, I’m still swimming…who else is out there?

The flock cameras make me not want to go into town.

This world is wild, not organic natural good kind of wild, but the wild-wild-west-scary-clown-wild.

But most seem not to notice, nor care.

Just keep being entertained.

Just continue to let your energy be drained.

Just hang on to the hook until the data centers empty the lakes.

Can we return to a time where the only ads were neighborhood papers in the mailbox we could also repurpose for starting cozy fires?

May the net fall…may the hooks break…may the lures glitch…may fresh water keep filling the lakes….

We live in one of those games of escape,

…Angela