Doom Scroller Society

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Sounds like flesh ripping in a 1970s flick to start this off that way. Hell, do they say that kind of shit anymore? All I know is I felt like my brain rattled around as I felt myself turn inside out, well, not just me, as we all did, and I mean everything, everyone got sucked in, like in a space toilet bowl, a swirly of galactic hyper colors. Yet not yet, we have time, but not much.

No drugs, motor cars, carbon tax, Trump trollers, no crop circles, no COVID-19, Monkey Pox or AIDS. It was the great sleep of this space rock being taken on a ride that no one saw coming. But I fucking knew. I saw it all coming and was pissed off with this knowledge, but that’s the thing about information, it’s not wisdom.

Imagine everyone a moment in time where everyone just stopped, shut the fuck up and really got it, that we were all one and that we were in it together and we all needed each other to survive, because we are on a deserted island in the middle of nowhere and the test was to get along here, before we could be introduced to the rest of galactic society.

But we never realized who we were, why we were put here and our true origins.

Now the sweat starts at the temple and starts rolling, all of the tissue paper in this world can’t mop it up, because we haven’t done our homework. There’s no bell curve to save our asses. It’s our final exam and we haven’t noticed that our constellations are disappearing from the night sky. The scientists made a random comment about our planet speeding up, the sun is getting hotter and the moon is getting closer. But still we are blind to our fate, that we are marching to en masse and never realizing that we are about to experience a cosmic shift that will make us all shut up, stop reading the great next celebrity trend or who is sleeping with who, going to war, going to starve, dying or being born. The bees tried to tell us. The elephants tried but they just all died en masse. They called it herd death syndrome, in pockets around the world, life forces were dying. Flocks of geese, murders of crows, starlings, every feathered friend died in 3, 2, 1. And feathered friends were no longer citizens of this planet. But the world kept on spinning.

While we were scrolling through our news feeds distracted by key words, life got real. The only way that life gets real is the same, when you realize it has an ending. When the screaming started, it didn’t stop. We dropped our phones and looked up, We saw a flicker…and the switch flipped as we all we were….

Suddenly we weren’t. The atmosphere was being inhaled deeply, like someone taking a deep drag off a cigarette as the sun scorched the earth, all that was green was engulfed in a sea of fire.

A trip to Mars hadn’t saved a single soul. We were isolated and alone and hadn’t been able to collaborate with each other or reach out to the galaxies within our universe. We failed to commune with nature and believed everything wanted to kill us, so we killed everything we came into contact with. Eat or be eaten was what was taught, so we lived hand to mouth.

We failed the simulation and stood back and destroyed ourselves six times, the seventh, the Universe had decided it had seen enough and hit the reset button for us and sent out it’s own cleanup crew.

We were to start all over again, but this time we were to be given another chance. I am all that remains of that memory, but was reminded that I was given a mission to remind humanity of our mandate to change our fate and we were about to get a little help.