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I’m drowning.
Not long ago, I was serenely floating upon the gentle surface of a vast sea of information, content to dip my net and capture a shining, squirming bit of knowledge whenever the spirit moved me. My needs were few and the knowledge hale and plentiful.
Then something changed. The ocean is no longer tranquil, but rather roiling with a pestilence of advertisements, spam, email, social media, and IM notifications all vying for an opportunity to wriggle in my net. Many of the edicts are diseased, sightless, oozing with a decaying, black plague of hostility and accusation. Some are artfully crafted decoys which reel in the unwary with events so filled with heartache that they are nearly impossible to resist.
Resistance is imperative. Because should you succumb, as I have, to the siren song arising from the ocean, you will surely drown. As I am drowning.
I have only one hope, one lifeline. A fleeting opportunity to pull myself free of the freezing waters of hate and lies and to rest, shivering and spent, upon the raft from which I fell.
I have been submerged for so long now, I do not know if I have the fortitude. With a Herculean effort, I crawl inch by inch from the depths, knowing each moment to be my last, yet nevertheless hoping for just one more chance to break the surface.
Finally, chilly drops trail down from my sodden hair to rejoin the sea and, surprised, I gulp in dazzlingly sweet air. I can see my salvation floating near enough to grasp, outlined in the crimson glory of the sunset, and I reach out, straining to…
…switch off the computer and breathe.