she dreams she's awake x

Originally published 5th January 2024

You know that phrase “there’s something in the water?”

For some time now I’ve been drinking the water. I’ve known it. And I wonder when it started. Was it iPhones? Or perhaps when social media influenced our attention span and endorphin kicks to not sit through a video longer than 3 seconds?

During lockdown I went down the Joe Dispenza rabbit hole which introduced me to the pineal gland. In a nutshell, scientists who try to explain spirituality and manifestation give a lot of credit to the pineal gland, located where many suggest is the location of the third eye.

And eventually this fascination and research on the pineal gland led to… fluoride? Yes. Fluoride. The stuff in our water. And research (google?) shows that fluoride accumulates in the pineal gland. So if our pineal gland, the crowned jewel gateway to mindfulness and higher spiritual realms, is suddenly crusting over with fluoride… no wonder life feels hazy. Like a dreamstate, and not a good one. More-so like a zombie apocalyptic state.

But every now and then, the clouds open up just a bit and you see the blue sky shining like tiny jewels through the sandy grey shores over our heads. And you remember those days of watching the concert of your life through your eyes instead of a 16:9 pixelated screen.

The other day I was in Starbucks and I was the only person in line. The barista asked for my name which surprised me because it’s not as if anyone else was waiting for drinks. And then I got excited, because I remember those days when baristas asked me for my name and then spelled in a dozen ways wrong onto the coffee cup. I wondered if she was going to pull out a sharpie and give it the old college try, but a digital sticker printed instead and she just stuck it on the cup.

As I stood there looking at the glossy sticker on my cup, I was reminded that long gone are the days of personalization. Maybe that’s way people used to like Starbucks. It wasn’t the quality of the coffee or acoustic coffee house playlists, but the fact that a stranger used to look you in the eye and ask for your name.

Fuck. Just the thrill of even thinking about it now.

I recently went out with a new friend, and for a moment it was “new friend conversation.” You know it. Where are you from? What are your upcoming goals? Are your parents still together… which, in my mid-thirties, has recently started to be rephrased as “Are your parents still alive?” And I realize it was fluoride-conversation. So I stopped myself, and allowed my questions and braveness to cross the social societal borders which have been put in place by the same faceless people putting the fluoride in the water.

Life is too short. I don’t want to drink the fluoride.

I want to know what your thoughts at 4am are. I want to know what turns you on but you’re not sure why. I want to know how you feel when someone close passes away, and I want to know every single job you’ve ever had and how that influenced or changed you (even the throw away ones like working in that soap store one summer.) I want to know what gives you butterflies in the stomach. Or what/who last caused you to laugh so hard you couldn’t breathe. I want to know what your thoughts on love and life were when you were 17, and what they are now at the age of 35, and what you think they might be 20 years from now. I want to know about one-time interactions or conversations with strangers which somehow stayed with you. I want to know what you’re envisioning when you’re sitting on a train and listening to your favourite song as the city or countryside rushes past.

I want someone to ask what my name is and then spell it wrong on a coffee cup.

That awareness. That aliveness. That personalization. I want that.

Bottle it up and pour me a glass. Let me soak in the intoxication.

x Lindsay