Page 24 - The First Letter To My Lady.

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their pixelated rgba. The screen gods were the overlords, the

under-channel cables of Sir Internet ruled single-handedly

the fates of humanity’s social onus.

Man’s always been a social animal, as it went. Braving destiny

and crafting invigorating tales of faith, but now - “Why

bother with letters when a text gets there in a second!?” The

age of Victorian charisma was now antique - not even

vintage - just antique, apocryphal almost.

“What of the people who liked the long way home then?”

The beauty of the long & winding road. At least you & I got

plenty of that. Seemingly ages apart - yet barely a 10 km

radius in actuality. Could the silver linings of our plight

really work out?

“Impossible, 21st century’s a constant feedback loop.”

Worse yet, was society’s blurry pace. The scurrying sashays

of lonely little kitsch. People were hollowed out with cracks

beneath their surface, cracks perforated by social media

behemoths, crack that we then plugged down with endless

doom-scrolls of filtered displays. Unbeknownst to us -

Narcissus would’ve blushed.

As if that wasn’t enough.

Everybody had skeletons in their closet, trauma brushed

under their carpet, insecurities lurking in their bedroom. It

was never going to be the easiest thing to face up to, but now,

tougher yet was the escape. From the siren-songs of digital

media’s illusions. We were a flawed species from the off - not

our fault but simply an evolutionary design - but now? We

were more exposed than ever.

It was impossible to wade through the cesspool of digital

media. I myself was bogged down - no longer impervious.