remember the halcyon days when our thoughts were the needle, and time was the vinyl spinning in an unhurried rhythm that allowed us to truly groove to the beat of our own inner worlds?
before our thumbs danced across screens, they turned pages - physical ones - or they twiddled in anticipation or deep thought.
there was a sacredness to solitude, a holy communion with oneself that demanded nothing less than full presence.
we knew the art of being then in a way that seems almost exotic now, like an endangered animal spotted in the wild.
nowadays, daydreaming is a subversive act.
