{"id":45463,"title":"This obedience","description":"...","content":"

<\/p>

\"4twn0stnplczbcgo3guwxr9dnfk1l5bhdmknlutgqpvnvlmd.png.jpg?w=1140&h=auto\"Obedience.<\/p>

Say it aloud.<\/p>

Go on.<\/p>

Let it roll around your mouth<\/p>

like an unfamiliar sucker.<\/p>

Sour at first, isn\u2019t it?<\/p>

A word heavy with implications,<\/p>

yet somehow hollow<\/p>

when you try to pin it down.<\/p>

Obedience to what, exactly?<\/p>

The light flickers.<\/p>

Red.<\/p>

Amber.<\/p>

Green.<\/p>

A little sequence we\u2019ve learned to trust<\/p>

more than our own instincts.<\/p>

The body hesitates<\/p>

because the mind has been trained<\/p>

not to question.<\/p>

It's not law enforcement;<\/p>

it's a glowing stick figure.<\/p>

No barked orders.<\/p>

No batons.<\/p>

Just a suggestion in LEDs.<\/p>

But we stop.<\/p>

We go.<\/p>

We wait.<\/p>

We\u2019re conditioned to follow<\/p>

not the command<\/p>

but the symbol of the command\u2014<\/p>

and when that symbol wears a skirt,<\/p>

we pause again.<\/p>

Progress?<\/p>

A gesture?<\/p>

Or just another way to tell us<\/p>

we\u2019re only allowed two shapes\u2014<\/p>

man in trousers,<\/p>

woman in a skirt\u2014<\/p>

and that the rest of us<\/p>

are just noise in the data?<\/p>

\"zyzb63lytuk4scmiyxdgdksvpegubemiyhqizrntypbysgzj.png.jpg?w=1140&h=auto\"But then, haven\u2019t we all become noise?<\/p>

Since the world tilted on its axis<\/p>

and the streets went silent,<\/p>

and our lives shrank<\/p>

down to the size of a Zoom window.<\/p>

The pandemic wasn\u2019t a storm;<\/p>

it was a pause.<\/p>

One long, drawn-out, head-throbbing silence.<\/p>

A sort of planetary shhhh.<\/p>

Stay inside.<\/p>

Stay safe.<\/p>

Stay away.<\/p>

We obeyed.<\/p>

Most of us.<\/p>

Not because we believed, necessarily,<\/p>

but because obedience<\/p>

suddenly came dressed as morality.<\/p>

As solidarity.<\/p>

As care.<\/p>

And we were so good, weren\u2019t we?<\/p>

Washing our hands like Lady Macbeth.<\/p>

Clicking \u201caccept all cookies\u201d<\/p>

like our lives depended on it.<\/p>

Scrolling through our feeds<\/p>

like they were the Gospel of Saint Mark,<\/p>

who offers protection<\/p>

for those held captive or imprisoned.<\/p>

\"9ezpafkxswtdgj3pmkmaxn9dccbsrnw8dk2wkfxron0xylyz.png.jpg?w=1140&h=auto\"There we were, alone together.<\/p>

Together apart.<\/p>

Our only rebellion<\/p>

a late-night doom-scroll<\/p>

or an ironic TikTok dance.<\/p>

But really\u2014were we rebelling?<\/p>

Or just following a different kind of instruction,<\/p>

quieter, sneakier,<\/p>

dressed in blue light and push notifications?<\/p>

Then there were the skies\u2014<\/p>

do you remember?<\/p>

Blue\u2026<\/p>

The air tasted different.<\/p>

It was cleaner,<\/p>

as though the planet itself had exhaled<\/p>

in our absence.<\/p>

It felt like a revelation,<\/p>

but was probably just temporary relief.<\/p>

A good face day on a dying system.<\/p>

And as soon as we were allowed to move again,<\/p>

the noise came back,<\/p>

along with the certainty.<\/p>

Meetings.<\/p>

Deadlines.<\/p>

\u201cBack to normal,\u201d they said.<\/p>

But whose normal was that,<\/p>

and why did it feel like a step backwards?<\/p>

\"edwgoziwl1vxfdqjlsiccjwiatlibjhxs3eczf58y5omtqol.png.jpg?w=1140&h=auto\"And amber\u2014oh, amber!<\/p>

Always overlooked.<\/p>

A brief second of yellow,<\/p>

that in-between moment<\/p>

that tells you nothing clearly.<\/p>

The colour of maybes.<\/p>

Slow down?<\/p>

Speed up?<\/p>

Prepare to stop or don\u2019t bother?<\/p>

The colour of modern life, really.<\/p>

That great ambiguity<\/p>

we all try to live inside<\/p>

without pulling our hair out.<\/p>

The pandemic taught us how to live in amber.<\/p>

It taught us that certainty is a lie,<\/p>

that pause is its own kind of truth.<\/p>

\"zrunshwq6spoojffclblpktfko9n1nqpjyeom1t9srjcnhl8.png.jpg?w=1140&h=auto\"Then there\u2019s the mask.<\/p>

Remember when it was just for doctors?<\/p>

Now it\u2019s a second skin.<\/p>

A muzzle.<\/p>

A badge.<\/p>

A burden.<\/p>

A gift.<\/p>

It says: I care.<\/p>

It says: I comply.<\/p>

Or it says: I don\u2019t believe in this nonsense,<\/p>

but I\u2019m not trying to get shouted at<\/p>

in the supermarket.<\/p>

The face is hidden,<\/p>

but the message is clear\u2014<\/p>

though that message shifts<\/p>

depending on who\u2019s looking.<\/p>

For some, it\u2019s protection.<\/p>

For others, it\u2019s surveillance.<\/p>

\"uk0fwsmk9ytlv5vxbhts5v3i0d6ahrkvkxcsi9zols007red.png.jpg?w=1140&h=auto\"And underneath it all?<\/p>

Rage.<\/p>

Fear.<\/p>

Exhaustion.<\/p>

An overwhelming urge<\/p>

to be seen again,<\/p>

truly seen\u2014<\/p>

not just through a screen,<\/p>

or by facial recognition software,<\/p>

or in someone's weekly Teams meeting.<\/p>

\"vitxoibxdcranmpdlxaztrrmitwlnjpboqcj8oafhuaponkj.png.jpg?w=1140&h=auto\"But what about those who were never seen to begin with?<\/p>

The ones the world forgets\u2014<\/p>

the ones with lives lived quietly, differently,<\/p>

in pain that doesn\u2019t show,<\/p>

in bodies that won\u2019t behave.<\/p>

The disabled.<\/p>

The chronically ill.<\/p>

The neurodivergent.<\/p>

The ones who were told,<\/p>

during all this,<\/p>

that their lives mattered \u2014<\/p>

and then were promptly abandoned<\/p>

when convenience returned to the stage.<\/p>

For them, the mask was never political.<\/p>

It was survival.<\/p>

Still is.<\/p>

But the world only likes survival<\/p>

when it\u2019s cinematic,<\/p>

not when it\u2019s slow<\/p>

and silent<\/p>

and inconvenient.<\/p>

\"xklfxkcsp5hw0mk5ynghb53e4um7m6c3egdyhtewnlpngoeh.png.jpg?w=1140&h=auto\"Meanwhile, somewhere else\u2014<\/p>

a fence.<\/p>

A metaphor, sure,<\/p>

but also an actual fence.<\/p>

A physical barrier<\/p>

between \u201cneutrality\u201d and \u201cinvolvement.\u201d<\/p>

And listen, neutrality\u2019s just disobedience<\/p>

in a good suit.<\/p>

To say nothing is still to say something.<\/p>

Silence doesn\u2019t exist in a vacuum;<\/p>

it echoes off walls<\/p>

and ricochets into complicity.<\/p>

We know this.<\/p>

But we like the comfort of not knowing.<\/p>

We wrap it around ourselves<\/p>

like a weighted blanket.<\/p>

Soothing.<\/p>

Heavy.<\/p>

Suffocating.<\/p>

And above all of this,<\/p>

behind it,<\/p>

inside it:<\/p>

surveillance.<\/p>

The ever-watching eye.<\/p>

Not Orwellian anymore.<\/p>

That\u2019s too retro.<\/p>

Now it\u2019s chic.<\/p>

Efficient.<\/p>

Invisible.<\/p>

Our lives catalogued in little data packets,<\/p>

our preferences sold<\/p>

before we know them ourselves.<\/p>

The algorithm doesn\u2019t just watch\u2014<\/p>

it predicts, manipulates, nudges.<\/p>

It doesn\u2019t need to punish;<\/p>

it only needs to persuade.<\/p>

And we go along,<\/p>

nodding at terms and conditions<\/p>

we\u2019ll never read,<\/p>

handing over ourselves<\/p>

piece by pixelated piece.<\/p>

\"nvnfzjqytc7vjnqd7ssgrwyj4uastvujak9grhvct2gbdety.jpeg.jpeg?w=1140&v=2\"So where does that leave us?<\/p>

Obedient?<\/p>

Disobedient?<\/p>

Something in between,<\/p>

something flickering?<\/p>

We live in the yellow.<\/p>

We live in the pause.<\/p>

We exist in the flicker<\/p>

between red and green,<\/p>

between fear and hope,<\/p>

between action and stasis.<\/p>

And maybe that\u2019s where we\u2019ve always been\u2014<\/p>

trying to decide<\/p>

if it\u2019s safer to cross,<\/p>

or wiser to wait.<\/p>","urlTitle":"this-obedience","url":"\/blog\/this-obedience\/","editListUrl":"\/my-blogs","editUrl":"\/my-blogs\/edit\/this-obedience\/","fullUrl":"https:\/\/lostcampitos.com\/blog\/this-obedience\/","featured":false,"published":true,"showOnSitemap":true,"hidden":false,"visibility":null,"createdAt":1736198658,"updatedAt":1756590180,"publishedAt":1756590180,"lastReadAt":null,"division":{"id":209850,"name":"Lost Campitos"},"tags":[],"metaImage":{"original":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/oix7kb0z7z3hwaahuedjvpghdwkmftyystleqbpiytvclinv.jpeg","thumbnail":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/oix7kb0z7z3hwaahuedjvpghdwkmftyystleqbpiytvclinv.jpeg.jpg?w=1140&h=855","banner":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/oix7kb0z7z3hwaahuedjvpghdwkmftyystleqbpiytvclinv.jpeg.jpg?w=1920&h=1440"},"metaTitle":"","metaDescription":"","keyPhraseCampaignId":null,"series":[],"similarReads":[{"id":26864,"title":"Los Peregrinos","url":"\/blog\/los-peregrinos\/","urlTitle":"los-peregrinos","division":209850,"description":"A visual poem created by Rebecca with footage and imagery from Matteo Delred.","published":true,"metaImage":{"thumbnail":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/js2xx3vwighcedfvud9mqvbauxxlyuscel0k1gkkcdcv53bv.jpeg.jpg?w=1140&h=855","banner":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/js2xx3vwighcedfvud9mqvbauxxlyuscel0k1gkkcdcv53bv.jpeg.jpg?w=1920&h=1440"},"hidden":0},{"id":31487,"title":"Migrant Body (Beyond)","url":"\/blog\/migrant-body-beyond\/","urlTitle":"migrant-body-beyond","division":209850,"description":"Diane Oatley and Matteo Delred collaborate through the mediums of poetry and visual art.","published":true,"metaImage":{"thumbnail":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/dr1defaslepurc6xnwbobalru3hsbbrdcal2judpaa9cjyo4.jpeg.jpg?w=1140&h=855","banner":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/dr1defaslepurc6xnwbobalru3hsbbrdcal2judpaa9cjyo4.jpeg.jpg?w=1920&h=1440"},"hidden":0},{"id":45894,"title":"Paint Me Like Your Oranges","url":"\/blog\/paint-me-like-your-oranges\/","urlTitle":"paint-me-like-your-oranges","division":209850,"description":"Photography project by Matteo Delred. The orange sat on the kitchen table, a thing of vibrant tension. Its skin was stretched tight, glowing with a colour that spoke of both ripeness and warning. Something to be desired, perhaps, but also to be wary of","published":true,"metaImage":{"thumbnail":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/ahr3kk70qzdzc0hfqjqzm1tpnxrjnqznoixlkegjipmfrqn0.jpeg.jpg?w=1140&h=855","banner":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/ahr3kk70qzdzc0hfqjqzm1tpnxrjnqznoixlkegjipmfrqn0.jpeg.jpg?w=1920&h=1440"},"hidden":0}],"labels":[]}