Satellite Anthems

Sometimes, almost by chance, I find solace in the electric jungle. Lost between coloured cables and blinking lights. Taking a wrong turn at the right line of code, taking a right turn at the stop sign that separates my street and yours. Is there anything less useful than a fleeting thought, a minute electrical pulse that on its own will travel no farther than the confines of my own thick skull? Is there anything less useful than ambition? Ambition never got me anywhere. Somewhere along the line, I missed the lesson on translating electrical pulses into something worth getting out of bed for, into material wealth, into happiness, into safety and the warm whirlwind of your cold heart.

One day I will have what I want.

Live, love, work. People, places, death. Cities, causes, music. Art, action, grief. Awake, asleep, dreaming, thinking, never stopping, always starting, sometimes watching, sometimes trying. Endlessly walking into the great and endless vortex of bad ideas, ever-hungry and always painful to endure. Never any more than half aware of what you’re doing. Never remembering that there was both a good and a bad, and that they should both have their place in your head, separated from each other yet entwined like the firm grasp of young love on its last day before annihilation. Never having time to remind yourself that you are capable of better, only drifting away to wonder what sets you back from materializing some kind of explosive breakthrough into a fantasy world of happiness and admiration.

Pick your battles, win them, and move on.