The Lie of the Digital Dream
By Tina Winterlik / Zipolita
I did farm labour until my hands broke down.
I went back to school, learned new skills—web design, tech.
I thought the digital world would save me.
I thought I could raise my child and work from home.
But that dream?
It was sold out to algorithms and billionaires.
Now everyone’s got a phone growing out of their hand.
Kids don’t know how to be bored.
People run on caffeine, Red Bull, vapes…
Until fentanyl finishes the job.
This is what tech has done:
Disconnected us from the earth,
From each other,
From our own instincts.
We don’t know how to grow food,
Or forage,
Or purify water without a tap.
We couldn’t hunt if we had to.
We were taught it’s wrong.
But dying in the streets from hunger and overdose—that’s okay?
The tools meant to save us became chains.
And the influencers?
They travel the world on jets, chasing fake beauty
While the planet suffocates under the weight of their selfies.
People wonder why their kids are dying,
Why cancer is everywhere,
Why they feel hollow.
No one is coming to save us.
They are trying to erase us.
Until we build tiny houses,
Until we grow food and reconnect to the land,
Until kids have purpose again—
Mother Earth will keep screaming.
With fire.
With floods.
Until we finally listen.
