Walking the Tightrope

I ponder this morning on the existence of skyscrapers, towering monoliths that crowd the world's cities, some almost cities in their own right. Offices, apartments, restaurants, shops. No need to ever leave. The higher you are, the higher your status, the closer you become to the Gods. Towering apartment blocks with accommodation you can barely swing a cat in. Standing on the tiny balcony and looking across into the identical apartment opposite. Watching the occupants dress, eat, argue, fuss and fight. Wondering what is in their fridge.

Opening your fridge, you peruse the contents, picking items up and checking the use by date. Nothing but finger foods really and Kimchi that you bought on a whim and absolutely hate but leave in the fridge just in case. You imagine entering the apocalypse armed only with a jar of Kimchi and vow to go shopping the next day and fill your SMEG appliance that takes up half the kitchen with colour. You read somewhere that the more colours you consume the better your gut health will be. You know your Facebook feed will be flooded with adverts for gut health products for weeks as the algorithms worm their way into your brain.

Sitting in front of your laptop you decide to take action before your soul is destroyed by the spiders crawling from the algorithms and you wonder, not for the first time, if you are losing your mind. You tried once before to leave Facebook but lost the will to live after 30 minutes of struggling to convince the bots you didn't need them anymore. You chalked that one up to failure and know this attempt will be no different. On the front of the fridge, next to the photo of you and the ex in Tokyo, there is a list. It gets longer every day. It details all the brands you have been told to boycott due to dubious political affiliations, breaches of child labour laws, slavery, not even a nod in the direction of sustainability. You have tried your best, you really have. But it is exhausting. Just living in the now is bloody exhausting.

You don't own the tiny apartment in the 54 story (why 54?) tower block in a trending suburb of one of the most expensive cities in the world. You will never own your own home. If you lost the job you hate today you would be on the streets within a month. You haven't even finished paying for the SMEG or the ergonomic sofa that sits jammed between two walls in what passes for a living space. So you smile and nod politely when your narcissistic boss gives you yet another shit job to do. You bend your head over the task in hand, and your mind travels to another place, another time. A world of tightropes, clowns, and a high trapeze. No ringmaster, you don't need another boss in your life. You are brightly dressed, gaudy even. You balance at one end of the tightrope as the audience holds a collective breath. You are as high as your apartment, yet you are free. There is no safety net. You look straight ahead and take your first step.