Alone Together in an Elevator

So that is all we are. That sums up where the better part of us is today. I'm individualistic at the core as most. Alone by principle, comes with weight. What's in my mind doesn't bind with most crowds, I'll leave it at that.

You are reading this right now, I was here not long ago, writing this. For us. But for the most part we are not able to connect. We do search for something, that is for sure, and that same search is the reason we walk away from reading this halfway through.

We do appear to try hard to create places where we can connect and be together, but we're misguided most of the time. When we meet in person (declining over the years), events, smiles, seem to converge us. Yet, depth and bond is not working. I see through, the places feel empty, alone comes back. Substance is elusive. A bit similar to how people approach being in an incredible moment or location, instead of being there, they take photos, pretending to make memories to share with... others. Maybe to upload on a social media slot machine. We're not exactly sure with who, but deep inside we're searching for something.

We used to gather when we searched for something, when we celebrated, when we were bored or afraid. We've numbed all of those. We would rather inhale information that can be shaped as drugs and consumed without losing dignity. Any second right now, your phone may buzz, you walk away lost in something random. Me too, sometimes I manage to come back, sometimes I finish my story.

The fears are still here, the dangers, but they are too sophisticated. Scale is the specific thing we can't hold. It used to be a finance skill, save money, act long term, and now the not-holding applies to almost everything we try to do. If I told you there is a way to live over 400 years, most would never make it. Most would lose the track and not even remember when they lost it. Many would not be interested in seeing past tomorrow. We prefer the thrill of last moment visceral tragedy rather than strategic living. Perversely, as if we're drawn to it.

We get into cars and look at each other as if we are border patrol of countries at truce. We then park our tanks, get out, gradually feeling naked, vulnerable. Might even smile and say a plastic hello when forced to cross paths. And then we meet in an elevator and act like we're together now. But we remain alone in it. We look away, we count the seconds until we can distance ourselves again, and each of us tries to hide on our face that it just crossed our mind that the elevator might get stuck.

It never does. We each step out, always on different floors, and with every step we take, the more we drift. The more we forget the elevator.