I feel your pain. lol Stay off those soul-crushing apps. I'm pouring my love into my family and connecting with those who have something meaningful to say and share. The best kind of love affair I've found is the one I have with myself.
I remember “how it was” when people revealed themselves in “the old fashioned ways” & that relationship, & marital, tensions & discord & all the kinds of infidelities were fulfilled in 50:50 divorce statistics per marriage. The many “swipers” in that way then who married, & remarried, & remarried some more.
The tech wedge has been sharpened, driven deeper, & that is “change” in that good old more of the same way…
… Scale change. But same handful of notes. Same music. …
…But people haven’t changed & merely speeding up the revelation of the bounded function changelessness is the same sort of “change” …
… Shredding the licks, going from ice cream cone slow ones to hummingbird speed-slurping changes speed, that’s all.
…Pocket change.
And you know what “they” have done to pocket change, those “velocity of money” — fiat currency, counterfeit scrip— types writing “All work & no play makes Jack a dull boy” over & over again, don’t you?
(Borrowing from Martin Niemöller) … First they came for the pennies, & I did not speak out, because I was not a penny …
Will Penny, the same damn fool—-biological bounded function determinism—- then as under present consideration:
Putting things into temporal perspective isn’t often easy, which is why it doesn’t often help, advice-wise, because it’s not easy to swallow & digest, either. That meat needs to be cut tiny, chewed long, & plenty acid needs be in the digestion tank before swallowing.
It’s also the reason for that bit about how failing to learn from history dooms its repetition.
Same scene, different reel, same the-one-that-got-away (with everything?) fishing story:
All the world’s a stage not because people are actors acting but because biology has cast & directs this crew. Realizing, recognizing, coming to know that *might* be a map.
I That is no country for old men. The young In one another's arms, birds in the trees, —Those dying generations—at their song, The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas, Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long Whatever is begotten, born, and dies. Caught in that sensual music all neglect Monuments of unageing intellect.
I feel your pain. lol Stay off those soul-crushing apps. I'm pouring my love into my family and connecting with those who have something meaningful to say and share. The best kind of love affair I've found is the one I have with myself.
I remember “how it was” when people revealed themselves in “the old fashioned ways” & that relationship, & marital, tensions & discord & all the kinds of infidelities were fulfilled in 50:50 divorce statistics per marriage. The many “swipers” in that way then who married, & remarried, & remarried some more.
The tech wedge has been sharpened, driven deeper, & that is “change” in that good old more of the same way…
… Scale change. But same handful of notes. Same music. …
…But people haven’t changed & merely speeding up the revelation of the bounded function changelessness is the same sort of “change” …
… Shredding the licks, going from ice cream cone slow ones to hummingbird speed-slurping changes speed, that’s all.
…Pocket change.
And you know what “they” have done to pocket change, those “velocity of money” — fiat currency, counterfeit scrip— types writing “All work & no play makes Jack a dull boy” over & over again, don’t you?
(Borrowing from Martin Niemöller) … First they came for the pennies, & I did not speak out, because I was not a penny …
Will Penny, the same damn fool—-biological bounded function determinism—- then as under present consideration:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dn6q1DKk_As
“It’s too late for me…”
Putting things into temporal perspective isn’t often easy, which is why it doesn’t often help, advice-wise, because it’s not easy to swallow & digest, either. That meat needs to be cut tiny, chewed long, & plenty acid needs be in the digestion tank before swallowing.
It’s also the reason for that bit about how failing to learn from history dooms its repetition.
Same scene, different reel, same the-one-that-got-away (with everything?) fishing story:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=90KgKdSjLsw
Another scene that if seen thru a wider aperture describes this monotonous scenery:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xdOPJKocMWg
All the world’s a stage not because people are actors acting but because biology has cast & directs this crew. Realizing, recognizing, coming to know that *might* be a map.
I That is no country for old men. The young In one another's arms, birds in the trees, —Those dying generations—at their song, The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas, Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long Whatever is begotten, born, and dies. Caught in that sensual music all neglect Monuments of unageing intellect.
https://poemanalysis.com/william-butler-yeats/sailing-to-byzantium/
You are so correct. Believe me, it only gets harder with age. 💔