What strange and desperate age is this? We who exploit our very existence to the eyes of all who gaze. What strange and desperate days. With our pocket gods and broken necks we consume and move. False relevance and artificial intelligence fuel our moods. Media masquerades crave constant attention, but silence breeds wisdom. Seclusion gives visions. Unplug from the system, at least for a couple of minutes. Listen, Everything is famous and instantaneous, nothing is dangerous and spontaneous. Consume until we’re brainless. Follow until we’re faithless. Awaiting the next facelift. Cosmetic injection to mask the neglect of vital organs on the other side of the transection. Are we blind to our self-inflicted transgression? Is there an antidote for this pestilent infection?
(Art= German Painter: Caspar David Friedrich 1774-1840)