Networking

Untitled, 1983 by Keith Haring

They say social media connects people with similar interests, but what if I'm weary of surrounding myself with individuals who believe they think like me? I loathe the idea of belonging to an exclusive group. Being trapped in the same social circles with familiar faces feels suffocating. While personalities may evolve, there remains a certain constriction when engaging with old networks that revolve around shared interests and opinions. Some of my colleagues, for instance, exude an irritating self-righteousness. Their incessant prattle about political ideologies, grievances with bureaucrats, or debates over the aesthetic value of art and music becomes deafening. Debating and conversing have their place in conveying messages, but oftentimes, it's best to sit in absolute stillness and observe. By simply being present in the moment, one can forge a connection with infinity: the plants, the rain, the songbird, the stars, even the neighbor's less-than-stellar playlist. There's a certain beauty in this approach—no hierarchy, no structure, no boundaries, and no space for imposing shallow morality. It's akin to the experience of sex or reaching the pinnacle of an orgasm, where everything, including every fiber, every cell, and every pulsating atom in the body, momentarily ceases to exist. Time itself becomes irrelevant.