Chronicly quiescent

In this age of information and misinformation, of extremes and contradictions, of abundance and dearth... I cannot help it but find myself out of context and out of place.

The quickness and slowness of life as I know it is barely livable.

I think it is beyond what we are, what we can be, achieve or not, move or not... so many things, so little time, and so much time as well. 

I can barely survive 10 minutes without doing something, that will bore me in less than 5 minutes. We are in the middle of such a life crisis. Living but never satisfied, with the certainty that we will never be. Happiness is simply summarized in a formula that recently have been found by some bored mathematicians, or by articles showing us the top 10 things happy people do or never do. It has reached intolerable levels. We have finally come to the conclusion that we will never be happy, that it is over, that it cannot be changed. We have become fatalists. Whatever fate gives us, we will take. We have become tired of struggle, of trying... We have become, globally, addicted to consumerism of giving up, of taking it all in. We are now ready to buy the feeling of powerless content. That is it, giving up is the only provider of peace of mind, because from all the unfits of this world, we are not the 1% , not the 99%. We are the 100%. All unfit. All continuing to be static.

Motionless.