Sorrow of a Digital World by Kayla Farrey ’19

I daydream, during calc or physics, reminiscing on my youth.

Remembering how I used to wipe off grimy fingerprints from hard copy DVDs.

Back when a movie jumped because of a smudge or speck of dirt,

Not calibrating on streaky wifi.

 

Where did the family trips to Blockbuster go?

Cruising in my dad’s car,

Michael Jackson in the CD player,  

Feeling the sharp wind against my palms.

Walking through the endless aisles of horror, romance, sci-fi, and thriller films,

Watching the fluorescent lights reflect off the plastic coverings of each individual movie.

 

Every morning qued opening the front door to a fresh newspaper,

Thinly sliced, opaque, and intimate.

 

Waking up ten years later.

Brains incapable of functioning for one minute without social media,

Thumbs vigorously scrolling, or index fingers rushing for that next high of a double tap.

My hand cemented to a 5-inch screen,

My pulse beating like a search engine.

 

I fear for the next generation.

Deprived of using day-old newspaper for decoupage or paper mache,

and instead using minted printer paper.

 

Attached by strings to our puppet master,

Each day, the internet takes a little more of our personality.

Pulls our hair, scraps away our identifying features.

Morphs our brains into irregular versions of the media and pulls further at our purest self.

 

It is hard to experience art when we have stripped ourselves of our natural senses.

Suppressing our consciousness,

Suffocating the experiences,

Lacking expressions.

Deteriorating.

 

To move my hands across,

take notes on,

rip,

tape,

Throw away

And not digitally.

Physically scrunching a ball of paper, feeling the crisp edges.

I yearn for paper cuts, and losing the remote control.

Where did the complexity? The anger? The annoyance disappear to?

 

Modernity has taken the color, the touch, the realistic aspect of art away.

I daydream and reminisce about the simpler times because if I don’t, who will?