We're digitised, pixelated and data manipulated,

yet long for chalkboard cafe menus, a cup of tea.

Onslaughts of data hit us daily, designed to drag us out of our own minds in one way or another.

Buy this! Worry about that! Look at brilliant me!!

We down booze to blur the noise, binge on box sets to block the panic and legitimise the constant stress response from the massive data processing:

Get the bad guys! Kill the virus! Save the World!

Fantasising on destruction has become our 'relief'.

Yet hiding in the back of our wonderland brains

an early silicon chip runs our own data trail.

Dregs of bedtime stories,

mixed with lullaby whispers,

recorded after days spent lost in rock pools

then swaddled by towels warmed with love.

Or a lover's kiss and secret timeless words that made the earth stop spinning, and still do.

A child nestled on your chest, a sun-gold horizon.

Perched in a tree, not at a desk or steering wheel. 

That's the data to deeply mine, store, run - daily.

Our silicon chips will blip these many long-lost memories of the moments when we are most alive

- before sleep, in morning's light or in the shower.  

Then words said softly will bubble up, alert us,

and have the agility (beyond ALL technology)

to slip us off to places and states far more powerful than anything that can ~ or ever will be! ~

downloaded, mined, analysed, tracked or sold.

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