In a world where the streets are filled with sprinkled glass and weekend leftovers. In yet another crisis, we go to work. We open our computers, say a brief “happy Monday” and ask how our co-worker's weekends were. Even though we know that entire societies break — we must work.
And it’s something breaking in me together with our worldview. Because the silence and the game of play pretend echos loudly within me. I’m tired after a couple of years of survival. And I’m tired of yelling and being told what to do. After years of global revolutions, years of little lights being put out by violence, I think we’re all a bit tired. Perhaps even fed up?
During these past years, we’ve continuously worked through terror attacks, war, famine, personal losses, and only further away from the pillars who make humanity. And yet we still go. We put on our suits and pretend that it’s nice to be back in the office after the pandemic just lost its tightest chokehold. Ignoring that the rest of the world still grasps for air. To that we prescribe asthma medication and then you can go, go, go.
And I don’t suggest that we stop the world. But the winds of change are turning into a cyclone and we as regular folks must realize that sometimes we need to seek shelter before we’re in the middle of the eye.
