No one is listening. We all hear, we register, we copy, we capture and manipulate the words, the patterns and the values or meanings by which we attribute substance to our lives but in failing to pay attention and to understand, to comprehend to and actually LISTEN to those words, to FEEL the MUSIC of it all, we all just end up blind-shuffling symbols, grasping at straws. So many turn in a self-despair born of confusion and loneliness to manipulate others, to attempt to control those other people in a vain and narcissistic aspiration to control the constutitive Self that Other people represent in internal psychological representation.
Those who suffer most in this are the ones who can not (or will not) play this game, who only end up manipulating themselves or allowing others to do so for them, who cultivate the inevitability of their own victimisation and who suffer, each in their own way, endlessly. Even the predation instinct is one in which a despot, dictator or (any other flavour of) bully merely and irredeemably entangles themselves in the vacuous value system and competitive grammatical rules of an adversarial game; they benefit, but they are as trapped by the circular references, psychological self-definitions and self-replicating lattice of fear and anger, perhaps even more dependent upon it than their long-suffering victims. (The watchmen and controllers in any Panopticon are as dependent for reflexively internalised contextual self-definition as are the watched.)
Those who – to use the vernacular – un-friend or un-follow their own best interests by mistaking the overall adversarial confusion of perceiving the current state and collective status of humanity as being some kind of normal are the most lost of all and, perhaps unsurprisingly, this is most of us and most of the time. There is no normal – everything is bizzarre, strange and unique in this Universe and no amount of shallow idiomatic, ideological or tribal bullshit can convince me (or should convince anyone else) otherwise.
It is all a cacophony of symbols and strings of ultimately meaningless information beyond the blind and purposeless self-replication of this dynamic, evolving logic of self-replication. I’m just thinking out loud here which is also (itself) just so much white noise, really; randomly-generated strings of symbols and meanings, replication with variation and sentient bundles of perception or cognition as digital fuzz; uncertainty manifest in entropy or (even free) choice as patterns of algorithmic emptiness from which moments of mystifyingly self-aware abstraction emerge and then dissolve back into the overall flow of things; as do we all, in the end.