The rectangle

All these people walking around, and here I am just watching them. It’s a lot of people, and they are all distracted, looking at a rectangle, ignoring what’s around them. It’s happening more and more, and it is sad.

It illuminates their faces, bringing happiness and sadness at the same time. But nothing lasts; it is only for a few seconds, until the next time. The next day, they scroll down, again and again, wasting their time.

Look up, say hello, there are people around, talk to them, interact with them; soon, they won’t be around. Too many people, all together and connected, although the distance between them continues to grow. Look up, say hello. Why be imprisoned by circuits and electricity when you have all these people and wonders around you?

“It connects us,” I am told. “It gives you access to the world,” I am told, but all I see is loneliness and rage from these constantly illuminated faces, always looking down.

Its tiny window is nothing compared to the wonders of everything else around us, but it doesn’t matter; it demands attention, and it gets it from everyone, and they all look down.

The rectangle owns them, it owns their feelings and their time.