MIND TRAFFIC

Reads: 332  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic

A short piece about how technology has provided my imagination new and visually striking means to express itself, but at the end of the day, fails to capture the awe and boundless potential of one's creativity.

I try to explain the hobby, this addiction, but fail miserably time after time. And this leads to arguments or disputes about how I spend my time. Sometimes a heart is hurt and her sad expression makes me feel like crap, yet I do not remove myself from the desk chair immediately. I am torn between this desire of creation which makes me a pseudo man-god. Truth is, I did not understand it myself but damnit all, I would defend it.
Then, as if tons of steel and cement and foundation stone landed on me, it all became clearer; though I would be lying if I were to say without doubt that it is pure and not defensive. My hobby, this addiction, roots from childhood.

My room was covered in paper but never trash, it was an art, a visual escape of my imagination and civil engineering design. The un-artistic, the logical and those without gift of sight, would see only crisscrossing pencil-drawn lines. The less-imaginative would view the white sheets as wastes of a child’s undeveloped mind. A truth-seer, one of unimaginable creative instinct and skill and awe would notice the highways, alleys bi-ways, boulevards, and railways.

A genius I was, of course I say this with modesty. My floor was a carpet of dozens of taped-together crisp clean white paper displaying the many cities my mind could form. I most likely had an entire nation worth of cities and towns over the years, all flowing from my thoughts to paper. But time would be cruel and they would all be recycled, making the sacrifice of the trees void.

As an adult the creativity still flows but more like a calm river rather than rushing rapids. however, like-minded civil engineering pseudo mortal-gods, teamed with advancing technology, has found a means to replace my mass transit connected sheets of paper with a digital platform.
Sim City rush hour found me via a friend who knew of my madness, for they share in it. A digital platform would replace dozens of crisp white sheets of paper, my tree-killing days would be all but over.

I was fascinated and amazed to see my pencil lines transform into streets, roads, avenues, freight railways, and public railways. Furthermore, there were now 2-D buildings that emerged from ground level truly capturing the desire of a skyscraper haven that the sims would know as their city’s downtown. Beyond that I had to even consider taxes, park designations, and industrial, commercial, & residence zone placement. So captivating, so trapping.

Years later I still find myself up late unable to stop clicking. I am absorbed into the city and I hardly know why. My mind races with ideas that software can’t always accommodate yet in fury I stay seated, building, ruling over the small digital world. Sometimes I miss my clean snow-white sheets with basic lines that accommodate every curve intersection and wild design imagined. But don’t get me wrong, I will never be rid of my digital platform; one day I hope to improve on it.


Submitted: August 24, 2022

© Copyright 2023 CENTAURI ADAMS. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:


Facebook Comments

More Memoir Miscellaneous

Other Content by CENTAURI ADAMS

Short Story / Science Fiction

Miscellaneous / Memoir