Reaching

Hungry. Always hungry. Rows and rows of things, and hands grabbing them greedily. Reaching for them without restraint. Barely is the next thing in the grasp of those firm grips before eyes begin darting around for the next, and then the next, and then the next. The smell of burning desire. Drops of sweat falling onto the dusty ground. No one cares what the ground looks like, no one even remembers what it should feel like. What they care for is to satiate their hunger. Eyes focused, yet darting around shiftly. Senses concentrated on one thing. Tunnel vision. The smell of hot breaths, quickening as pulses quickened when hands other than their own grabbed something. Anything. Their eyes did not have to be on it. But when alien hands reached for, and secured things, their eyes made time just as their own hands tightened around the things they were reaching for, or already had. Feet planted firmly on the ground, hips square, and tight. As if affixed to the ground.

Humans, backs bent over impossibly, in ways even worse than the shunting that sitting hunched in front of a desk does to you. This is not a physical act, even though its manifestations are. This is much more complex. This is a mental exercise, something within the human psyche that takes the worst of humanity, and amplifies it.

When people lose connection, when people lose the sense of interdependentness, the sense of tribe and community that allowed their ancestors to survive, that is when they change. If to transcend means to become bigger than yourself, aspiring to, and reaching new heights, then that is not what humans do when in the throes of this monster from within. Humans descend, to the deepest, darkest parts of themselves, and turn into something lesser. Consumed by desires, consumed by needs, being slowly eaten alive by things that lurk in the dark, things that are the worst parts of them.

Hungry, always hungry. Without restraint. Rows and rows of things, rows and rows of reaching hands. Eyes shifting. Green, envious. Red, desire. Hearts fallen, minds focused. Greed. Minds numb, hearts dumbed. Fingertips tingling with base desire, but underneath that, unsatisfied. This is not human connection, this is not the touch of someone else, this is not the feel of a warm body. This is something that was touted as an addition, something that slowly began to take over, began to replace the feel of loved ones, this is something that they now use to satiate themselves, during holiday seasons especially, due to the lack of people in their lives. This is a temporary feeling, but what it causes in terms of negative effects, is very much long term. Lack of connection, losing the ability to make a connection. This is what happens when robots and algorithms run the world, statistics make decisions on what the majority of people living on the planet should get and use. This is what happens when imperialistic desires masquerading as democracies impose their will upon the people. This is capitalism.