Consumers of content

So I get up and scroll through the feeds of news and updates. I listen to podcasts while I commute, and my eyes stay on the screen while I talk, because deep inside, I have this fear of time running out, and me missing out on any information. Which is kind paradoxical in my case, since the motive of me grasping more information is to have more meaningful conversations with people. 

It is pretty evident from our generation's behaviour, that we're all hedonistic consumers of content. 

But, more importantly, what is the ratio of the content you consume to that you create?

What's wrong in consuming content? Nothing. What's wrong in not creating content? Everything. The sparks in the neurons sitting in our brains won't fire enough. We won't realize what information we retained and processed out of the whole bunch piled upon us.

The best and easiest way to get out of this web trap, according to me, is to start small and start collaborative.

After a long hiatus (shameful, since I aim to be a full time author), I have decided to start small (like this blog post)  and get collaborate with co-authors to create a single piece that emerges out of a union of two or more thought processes. As an example, here's a short piece I did with a friend of mine.

The void

It’s not everyday you are so ebullient,

the breeze had another joy to it!

It’s not without reason that

I get scared of

too much

happiness!

And then it began,

With the question you asked

I stood silent,

You moved in anguish

I did not want to take the leashes of my own guilt,

And reply to you

In a manner that I become unable,

To reply to you

Head buried in the pillow,

You lose your head.

Just the wrong thing

at the wrong time.

Nothing else.

It was perhaps your ego?

Your pride? your stance?

That made you stride

Straight into

And out of

That night

Aimless I was, with you off to a far off land

Although you were near enough, like sea to sand

But the sand you were, slipped from my fists,

For the hand you held, was chained to my wrists.

Each minute was an accident, for it collided with each moment.

There was so much in each second, that I longed for less.

But the moment the moments ended, it all felt silent.

I wished we had air to breathe

But all we had around

Was vaccuum

Now if you observe closely, you can see two different writing styles, and how beautifully they set their own identity apart, while at the same time, not allowing you to feel disengaged from the theme. I do understand this could call for a more elaborate setting/ context for lay man comprehension.

Suggestions for improvement are most welcome.

Apps like HaikuJam are also good to start off for such collaborative efforts (although I haven't tried it as of now)

On a concluding note, try your best to optimize the ratio of consumption to creation.

Believe me, my level of satisfaction/happiness as I end this blog post, is much much greater than what would have been if I had just finished reading a similar blog post.