Shriram | Week 9 | Linux Laptop Sunsets
I don’t even have a MacBook. I avoided one specifically to get away from the fan—but every night as I continue my work, the soft, mechanical whirring sound of my Dell laptop becomes painfully loud. It’s accompanied by a sporadic series of short tones and creaks; the machine runs lazily at half power as I lumber through my work with half a heart. Three-quarters on some days. All on almost none.
Don’t worry: I keep myself engaged—forcibly. Whether that be intellectually or socially, with friends or with family, I will not be alone on my time. Less than an hour after seeing them at school, I’m already discussing the next best thing with my friends, or talking with my sister about her classes, or writing a script for a video that I’ll delay. I’m almost always active. Almost. With the same intensity of desire that keeps me joined at the hip(s?) of my best friends, I sometimes find myself deeply invested in maintaining the silence around me.
It’s a little late. Wire by wire, I disconnect my computer from its intricate setup. The elaborate symphony is peeled back, layer by layer, to a noticeably quieter hum. Finally, I turn off the extension cord that powers all my devices. Every last light shuts off, and all but the most persistent electronic noises die out. The faint shuffling of feet and the occasional creak of the floorboards can still be heard. I don’t get up just yet.
I think the fact that silence—nothing, effectively—can be difficult to embrace is a uniquely modern, uniquely digital concept. We are so capable of immersing ourselves in activity, of running ourselves through stimulation after stimulation that the lack thereof is jarring. I wouldn’t trade the noise I hear for the world, but it’s exhausting. To me, the quiet is welcome.
Everything digital gives me information. Articles are meant to be read, charts stared at, and videos understood. Yes, we are supposed to consume information at this unprecedented rate—no, there’s no such thing as overloading your brain! The sun may have set, but we’ve made sure you can stay up with us. Our screens go up to 3,000 nits of brightness, our whites and blacks as true as they can be, and our sound immersive enough to where you never have to turn it off again. What exciting developments!
There’s no soundtrack to the sunset. I’m glad there isn’t.
Every time I see one, it’s not just a fleeting visual euphoria: even if temporarily, everything around me becomes still; and I am alone with my thoughts. I know some who dread the isolation, but it allows me to reflect with unparalleled clarity. I’m struck by the extent to which I’ve developed; how envious my younger self would be of me! I don’t always have the time to think of him during the day, but in times like these I’m struck by the change.
Sunset was hours ago now; and I’m excited: tomorrow it all happens again.
bro this is so good. i'll write a better comment later but i NEEDEd to say that this was a delightful read
ReplyDeleteHi Shriram! Your blog was genuinely so lovely. I had a pretty stressful day and I have bedrotted for the last 6 hours reflecting a little too much, so your blog put my mind to rest for a moment. First, the immense amount of details you wrote paint such a clear image for me—it felt more like watching a video than reading.
ReplyDeleteSometimes, definitely recently, things feel like they are moving at lightning speed and I have no control over anything. It is daunting. The palm tree outside my window dimly lit by the nearby streetlamp is my version of your sunsets. Late at night, when everyone in my house is finally asleep, looking out the window and seeing the large palm fronds swaying puts me at ease. I like how you wrote about how overloading your brain isn’t a thing. We are so privileged to have an endless amount of information at our disposal with just a Google search. While it is exciting, it can get overwhelming. I suppose it could be comforting too though. I am always going to have something else to learn, something to continue my development. I won’t have to worry about a static life.
Did you take that photo yourself? If so, amazing job!
Shriram, I loved this read. The narrative style you employed fit the cadence you wrote it to. I loved the sensory details included throughout the blog; it felt almost poetic. Additionally, I feel like your voice was heard extremely clearly through the blog; for having known you since 4th grade, it was enjoyable to read your writing for (I think) the first time, and compare it to how you talk. I heavily relate to the part about talking to your friends at school—namely the never ending FaceTimes that leave us all with hours of homework to finish late into the night.
ReplyDeleteWhat do you write scripts for? I did not know you made videos of any kind.
I heavily agree with the part of your blog about consuming and interpreting information. I feel like there is so much to be learned, and the process/practice of doing so is honestly enjoyable. It kind of sucks junior year is so busy that we have lost the free time to endeavor in those long rabbit-holes.
Also, I never knew what a "nit" was before this, so thank you for enlightening me (pun intended hahah).
Finally, I love the last part of your blog; I too adore the sunset, and find its effect impactful. I agree with the perspective that the sunset brings clarity. It kind of just leaves you with yourself, so your mind isn't distracted—which it almost always is (at least for me). Not to even mention how beautiful California sunsets are.
Overall, I really enjoyed this read. Thank you for writing and sharing!
I really enjoyed your style of writing and I valued your perspective of how electronics have made its way into our lives. The fact we have everything to ever know all on a tiny glowing rectangle is insane. However I think that electronics have overstepped their boundaries.
ReplyDeleteAs of recently I have definitely noticed a decline in attention spans and the capacity to remain patient. Like you said I think the constant “stimulation” has pushed our brains to a point of no return. While it is a privilege to be able to shut off your brain and just scroll it has greatly affected culture as a whole.
Similar to you I love how calm and pure nature can be. For me specifically, I enjoy different types of trees. And yes it is very odd and many of my friends call me weird for liking them but, they pose as this sign that it’s okay to just take a step back from it all and breathe.
It’s a pleasure to have you in my blog cohort again! I’m looking forward to enjoying more of your beautifully written work; this one is no exception.
ReplyDeleteAs wonderfully electronic and digital our current society is, sometimes it can be a little much (see: my screentime). I visited New York City over Thanksgiving and Times Square looks almost dystopian with its shower of artificial photons bouncing off of every single concrete surface and into my retinas. I think it would instantly incapacitate anyone from before the 1900s.
In contrast, I visited Yellowstone over the summer. It was just a short couple days of driving around the National Park, but what Wyoming lacks in modern digital entertainment it thrives in night scenery. I’ve been camping in what I thought were remote places in the past, ogling at the 3 pinpricks of light the iPad app tells me is Orion, but the night sky in somewhere as genuinely remote as Yellowstone is on an entire other level.
Shattering the previous two examples, however, is the night sky I saw 2 years ago at 4 a.m. on a red eye flight over the central United States, coincidentally on a flight back from New York. I looked outside the window and genuinely believed I was either in heaven, in some kind of fever dream, or in a burning United Airlines Boeing 737. Thankfully, neither of those were true, but I did get to genuinely experience seeing what appeared to be The Milky Way hundreds of miles away from any light pollution.