The OrphanAGE, Vol. 1.03
First Lines
"Someone must have slandered Josef K., for one morning, without having done anything truly wrong, he was arrested." —Franz Kafka, The Trial
Confession: up late putting a wrap on this week's offering, I kept hitting replay on this week's featured tunes like a lab rat self-dosing on the good stuff. Perhaps we should put a label on...
WARNING: risk of earwigs!
...don't say we didn't tell you.
In This Issue
1) Music: a coupla ditties from that maestro of catchy melody, Shawn M. Stewart
2) Essay: a plea for the Real Life from Linzi Garcia
3) Poetry: Tony Plocido
Peace,
Dante
Shawn M. Stewart
Don't Like This Post
by Linzi Garcia
How much time have you spent scrolling today? What’s your screen time report for this week? How much of your life have you given up looking at other people’s lives? ...days? Over the next decade, weeks. A third of our life is already spent sleeping. We really don’t have much time.
At 30, I’ve spent 16 years on Facebook, 14 on Instagram, and have seen my life–myself, my friends, and my interests–change in ways I’m reminded of with every Facebook memory and scrollback, and I’m equally intrigued and disgusted. Don’t get me wrong, I get the benefits of social media and modern technology, so I’m not asking you to unrealistically become a Luddite, but I am asking you to go touch more trees, maybe lick a rock, be more mindful, and slow down “IRL.”
Not only are privacy and anonymity things of the past, and not only have our notions of self-worth, coolness, attractiveness, popularity, creativity, and authenticity been influenced by what we’ve seen on the internet, but our connection to ourselves and the world and people around us has been disrupted. I’m not writing anything new here–we all know this effect and have experienced it to one degree or another. These damn screens have detached us from ourselves, each other, and our world as much as they’ve connected us.
We literally call it doom scrolling and bed rotting when we spend an excessive amount of time staring at these screens; so, if you have the balls–nay, if you have the self-respect–I implore you, stop reading this on whatever screen you’re reading it on, right now, and go do something, even if that something is doing nothing at all.
I know we’re burned out and overwhelmed. I know we’re animals with addictions to little treats of instant gratification. And I know our phones are portals to entertaining and educational content that we drink like castaways drink salt water. Hell, these computers are the reason for much of our personal and professional growth and acceptance. And I know I’m a hypocrite for taking a break writing this to check my notifications. All I’m saying is that we are the captains of our own ships and can live our lives without giving so much of them to Mark and Elon and Big Streaming and even the OrphanAge.
Speaking of which, when was the last time you just sat around and pondered, or laid on the floor and listened to a whole album, or tried something new, undisturbed? Give it a try and let your brain detox. How good it feels to live unplugged! How gross it feels to watch countless real or fake people live their real or fake lives. Go be a real person in the real world with other real people in the real world. Be bold, be brave, and get out of your comfort zone. Go somewhere new, think about who you are, what you value, and your most perfect life, and get after it. We all know we love the times when we forget about our phones. We owe it to our brains, bodies, and souls to slow down and really pay attention to all of the things bigger, smaller, more profound, and simpler happening around us.
On your deathbed, and on mine, we won’t be thinking about all of those reels and posts but about the things that made us feel most alive. So, please, please, if you’ve given my words five minutes of your time, five minutes of your “one wild and precious life,” please turn off your screen and give yourself a lifetime worth living.
Don’t like this post. Don’t waste your time.
Feast
by Antony Plocido
Think of the best mistake
you ever made.
Was it a person
who finally turned over your engine?
Made you feel like a woman,
or a man,
or some other definition of a human being?
Did they remind you that you were breathing?
Alive?
Like you were launched
into space.
The space between relationships
filled with jet fuel,
fire,
the thought that you may, actually, be touched again.
Maybe even twice.
Maybe in that place
between reason and responsibility.
The place of festivities and fuck yeah!
Probably for awhile.
Otherwise, why would you stay?
Why would anyone stay?
Why would you decide the lesson is worth the learning.
Why would the earth keep turning?
Why would you have anything, ever,
to do with anyone, ever?
Love usually lacks logic.
Some people fall in love
with the wrong people sometimes.
We’re told stories of
knowing when it’s right.
We’re told stories of
feeling it in your bones.
Stories are fantasies.
Fantasies are lies.
The truth is that
someone will
at best, be good enough.
Kind enough.
Blind enough to your bullshit.
We will lean on this
for years.
Decades.
Even if this person has made a constant feast of your heart
for years.
Decades.
They will have no idea,
of this meal, they have been consuming.
They wake up.
Peel back their blankets.
Drink coffee.
Turn on the shower to wash off yesterday.
Dress in something that makes them feel good.
Even if it physically hurts.
Go to work.
Go to happy hour.
Find another person.
Put a number in their phone.
No one remembers numbers anymore.
Call. Plan a date.
Pretty themselves up.
Fight the urge to flee.
Date. Smile. Kiss.
Fuck.
Find love. Find home.
Break up. Break down.
Feel homeless. Feel lost. Feel quiet.
Cry. Sleep.
Try again another day.
Just like you.
At least, this is what you hope.
I fear
what’s left of my heart is nothing more than appetizer.
A mere morsel.
It won’t satiate.
This a lot of words and metaphor
to say
that I miss you
More than I’d like to.
The Big Quiz No. 2
- What is the space between relationships filled with?
- What do we we owe to our brains, bodies, and souls?
- When is it we go down to the Apothecary?
Just send your quiz answers by email right here!