American photographer Eric Pickergill

fuck the phone. turning us all into cyborgs, checking news feeds and updates first thing in the morning and right before i sleep. stealing my attention with bits of information irrelevant but just enough to keep the time passing by. its notifications buzzing like pieces of food dropped into the rat cage, constantly by my side like a kids blanket but providing little warmth and comfort. little piece of shit computer by my side, listening in and containing my information of who i like, what i read, how i work and needing care just like a living being. i plug it in and feed it energy at night and fetch for it when i first wake. it shining light capturing the little bit of attention i have left for the rest of the things that are needing water and love and energy.

its all gonna kills us. not only is change the only thing that is constant, death is the only inevitable outcome in it all. no matter how we play the game, it all ends the same. knowing this what can we do about it? should it be more or less serious? do we make efforts to be remembered and if so by whom and for how long? do we make others our friends, keep foes at a distance, surround ourselves with those that love us and be upstanding citizens. do we keep amassing even when we have had enough? how much is enough, and what to do with it when it bubbles over? when it sits in the corners and molds over, it will all disintegrate, it will all eventually go away or we will go away first and then it will be no longer. dont covet the things. dont covet them.

it comes at times, clarity. like seeing a way out of a maze, light at the end of a tunnel. the aha moment, and thats it. its figured out, you know it although you cannot put a word to it, and then it fades. like the anger before, like the problems you had, like the thunderstorm that raged so hard. it fades. into the mist you return, head on with the daily grind, the struggles with the kid, with your job with the neighbor. these distractions, like the phone, to fill in the gaps between clarity and complete loss. those grinds hold it all as well, in each moment is everything and nothing, fighting for the light of day and its meaning is for you to decide.