Electronic Messiah

I finally decided to try out the Daily Prompt, here’s my first go at it.

Once Ian wrestles himself away from the depths of sleep, he stands and glances out his bedroom window. Through the glass, and beyond the glare of the sun, his eyes record a dreadful sight. He wishes to move, but he cannot. He stares at a world drained of cheery vibrancy and void of warming hues. Where is the beauty in a world cast in grey? Ian thinks as he tries to blink away the chilled environment.

Somber tones are held fast in concrete and steel, the colors of the world have seemingly run away. Several buildings, coated in sandy white tones, stood across the court yard. They are identical to his own in every way. They were built simple and erected quick. No one had time to paint the outer walls or add any unique features.

The series of apartment buildings rose up from what Ian always believed to be an artificial layer of grass. Dimly lit in the morning light, his eyes were glued to the only remaining speck of vibrancy. They danced along it as he traced the dewy surface. However, he snaps his attention back to the reality he knows and trusts. He starts his morning routine and readies himself for the day.

The electronic buzz, and automated filters of Ian’s apartment soon insulate him from worries of the drab world. These amenities ease the tension that grows in Ian’s neck as he ponders the outdoors. The flicker of a TV set and the hum of his handheld devices further remove the concerns. Ian’s digital world and play-scape fester with all the warmth, wonder and color he could desire. Flowing forth from the vast unknown, his vices nullify all thoughts and he no longer feels lust. He does not know the urge for more or different. It is only when new items arrive on his TV or devices does he feel such pangs of desire.

Amnesty is his. He no longer thirsts or seeks entertainment. He is free of this responsibility. Ordered with the slightest thought, shows, games and films are handcrafted and personalized. They’re all created to fulfill his tastes. These advancements, Ian decided long ago, have brought everyone freedom. No longer are we subjected to ugly music or TV shows that do not satisfy our anticipation. Our digital play-scape is indeed cast in our image, and filtered to fit our precise wishes. No more negativity, or ill-thoughts conflict our minds. We are free to work and play indefinitely. We are slave to no passions or urges. We are free.

As Ian departs for work, he no longer feels any strain or worry. He does not contemplate the lack of beauty, or uniqueness in the world. He is fixated on one thing: work, and the challenges and stress it will bring. Once he is finished with his duty, he will return to his dwelling and dive back into his little box. The colorless walls of the apartment mirror his thoughts, and the world outside his windows. All are vacant, and have long since been stripped of flavor and style.

What beast would cast aside such pillars of civilization? The one’s ordained with science and greed; the masters of the electronic gods. Prophets in their own right, these are the ruthless juggernauts of the world.

Ian wallows in the technologically induced numbness that all people so greatly digest. The murmur of gadgets and cycling of trinkets strip away any remaining notions of silence or thought. They clog his mind, dissolving all signals of personal thought. The buzz of his climate control and beep of his cell phone call out to him, jamming his thoughts and infiltrating his mind. No longer does he have any desires outside of the ones provided to him by his electronic messiahs.


One comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s