Given the choice to stay at home or go into town, I would opt for the former normally, unless, of course, there is an absolute must. I don't know why, but I feel a peculiar unease about the town, an unease which triggers a small, yet noticeable, sense of anxiety. Indeed, I have often thought that maybe I am slightly agoraphobic, but on the other hand, I can freely travel to different counties and countries without normally feeling this way.
How very confusing.
There is something weird about the town. I automatically become aware that something isn't quite right - especially on a saturday, when the town is bustling with activity. Colours show themselves more, the air begins to develop a repudiating smell, noises and various sounds are louder and clearer; society just seems to jump out from its cracks, seems to come alive. Through all these observations, I become very much more self-aware of my very own existence, although I am driven out of my comfort zone into an alien land.
I am trapped between two conflicting states of thought: am I an individual? a unique personality? or am I just another brick in the wall? just a statistic, a number that has been secretly implanted inside my brain at birth? My ego swings me into the direction of the former; No! I am a unique individual, a person with a personality, I am a unique man who has a quality distinct from others. I am not the others, I am me! But then reality slowly oozes itself from within the cracks of my mind. Look at me. I say I am different, but here I stand with DVD's, goods from Sainsburys, and clothes from various high street shops. My taste in music and film already marketed and analysed, my fashion dictated by constant research, advertising and PR, my taste in food already provided for, it is like they know me already... It is as if they lurk behind my grey shoulder, observing my behaviour while trying to predict my next move, my next buy. Yet they do so with such cunning and ease, like a fox in the woods, the chicken has no idea whats coming.
A choice we are given, but only out of the alternatives they have on offer. And even then choice is limited to cost. A hot day is nothing more than an opportunity to satisfy the research prior to your cold drink. In time patterns begin to emerge and develop, a new world is slowing becoming and then, in a flash, is born into existence. A world of graphs and histograms, a world with a hierarchical structure, they the manipulator, we the marionette. And when the sun turns away, they put us back into the cupboard gently, open up our box and tuck us away, prepared for the next weekend.
How can I escape the clutches of society? How can I evade their evil plan? yet remain an individual at the same time?. I simply can't. My actions will always have consequences, I am connected to everything as much as everything is connected to me, my life belongs to all and theirs to me, and so my world will forever remain black.
© 2011 Roberto Nacci All Rights Reserved