Life as frogger

Its not that the alligators (crocodiles?) are intentionally trying to chomp on you.

Its that they don’t care.

They have their own rhythm, their own pattern, their own task…. and they really don’t care if you are hurt by it. Or if their giving you just a second of consideration would make the difference between your success and failure.

Jumping between the sharp teeth and the sinking pits is your own problem. Everything else is absorbed in their doing their own thing.

The more and more, I’m beginning to feel like the current society we will in is just one big frogger game. One big screen of things going back and forth in their own little worlds, and fragile little frogs trying to jump just right between apathetic obstacles to keep their own world from being smashed without even a notice from the passing log that just sunk their world or the truck that just plowed them down.

And unfortunately, most days I feel like a squashable frog.

But the thing that scares me more than being squashed is the wonder in my mind… of how many times I have been a chomping mouth absorbed in my own thing.

And I wonder…. how many people are left who are still reliable patches of grass on which to catch your breath, get resynced into the patterns, and prepare to make it across while resting on their stable spots.

Far too few.

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