-concept-

It seems to me that more and more people prefer to live on islands. This cracked and distorted platform we call society, regretfully, offers the perfect conditions to do so. Where once lay common grounds and public fora to be used for the sharing of knowledge and experience or just plain being together, now lies wasteland.
Deserts soil, cracked open by the rational heat modern man has chosen to apply to its public spaces.

I was once told post-modernism is a myth. In fact, man is still radicalizing modern concepts, pushing them to sterile and inhuman limits.
For me, these terms are what post-modernism brings to mind. Pas the edge of the cliff, at the end of modernism, must've awaited this dry, barren land; drained by the blistering sun of modernity's shining rational light.
Then again, perhaps there is no aftermath. Perhaps there never was a shining light. Only a cold, sense-numbing individualization, isolating us onto drifting shards of ice.

The further we push ourselves in opposite directions, the more people will fall through the cracks.
Those are the unlucky ones; unable to comply with the sterile loneliness this shattered social platform implies. They tumble tumble back into the abyss of the irrational wholesomeness that once was, though now forever banished from consciously thinking minds.

If lucky, they might be considered mildly productive and be invited to share their wicked thoughts of vivid colours and prickling smells for the entertainment of those who float and who might, in turn, offer them a floater, as a token of appreciation for this glimpse of something they barely recall and a moment of glee.

Nonetheless, the loneliness remains. The cold persists. And the gaping whole of essence being eaten away by nibbling anti-matter grows incessantly.