by Jake Cake
How we are effected by the bombardment of information from the internet.
Stooped over the tiny screen, killing time, scrolling past atrocities, war zones, awful things happening to strangers in other lands, pouting girls facing off the world with a narcissism fuelled by insecurity - a cry for help. Overloading on blue light, dopamine stimulation, and all the horrors and beauty of the world. Must be like being God, but to care about it all? No way. The burden. Sitting in a waiting room, she unwittingly takes on the burden. Lunchtime in the work canteen, she and her colleagues connect with the burden - faces down, eyes and minds filled with the never-ending input of humanity's multifaceted expressions.
But the burden numbs her. Overloads her. Guilt-trips her. She cannot care.
Walking through town she sees an elderly man has taken a fall. She cannot scroll past her own reality - nothing in her wants to. She runs over to help him. She is relieved he is ok. She is relieved she cares.