Disconnected to this “reality”

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Why write something? when nobody reads anymore, and if they do read, they wouldn´t understand the message, the point, the objective, or maybe they wouldn’t understand a thing. Why?

Because they lost the ability to differentiate fantasy from reality and now, they believe salvation is their grasp of a prayer, or maybe in a dance in TikTok, or in a poseable false post in Instagram or Facebook, or in a ridicule controversy video on YouTube, all of these with the solo purpose to gain a like, a view, a share and a follower…one at a time or a bunch.

I remember, when there was a time when strategy, cooperation, and evolutionary pressure along with the key variables of absorb, process and transmit information where prized assets in order to survive and pass those traits to our selfish genes, to the next generation, to our own reflection in a new organism, or perhaps a superorganism.

So maybe I can write this and hopefully someone can read this, and someone can understand the importance of give or thoughts an opportunity to be free, by typing each letter in the word processor in order to create an idea.

As I write this, I imagine or see myself hardwired in symbiosis with my brain and the computer, in a creativity loop, that some humans have experienced and very few have mastered. I also write because not all my ideas fit in my cranium, or in all my neurons, I have to make more space for new ideas, and keep my brain plasticity fresh.

Nothing is the same, as Heraclitus said “No man ever steps in the same river twice”, because the river keeps flowing and it´s different, but also the man changes with each step. We are never the same, we can´t froze time, but we can take a picture and think is still. Yes, take a picture and compare yourself, even by the time you finish reading this, you will not be the same.

Paraphrasing the great Bob Dylan, “times are changing…”, and in the distant past nature was a most desired and valuable asset, but now they have polluted the air, contaminated the land and the sea in favor of relentless power and corrupted money.

Why bother in doing something right? Why transmit data or information? Why care for others? Beside our love ones, beside our selfish genes. Well, we are not designed to be still, we are designed to be in constant movement, and with each movement we encounter different interactions and iterations with the world, we construct new ideas and perspectives that need to be analyzed and expressed.

Remember, from the moment we exist, even as a cell or an atom, or a quark, we absorb, process and transmit information or data. If we do not move, we deteriorate, if we do not produce bits and bytes of data, our brain collapses. Movement “up and down” in an electrocardiogram is life, a straight line is death.

But the question remains, why write something? Maybe write for me, and keep track of my mind and myself, and see if I am normal or crazy, but who is normal? What is normal? What is crazy? Who is crazy? Apparently everybody has some kind of degree of craziness.

Well, I remember reading Max Tegmark about this, in his article: Are We Living in a Computer Simulation?, from Scientific American, and he said: ““My advice is to go out and do really interesting things, so the simulators don’t shut you down.”


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