I try to take my own advice, usually. Usually, I do. But this is a little different.
I can feel my calm facade being sucked inward, then outward, dispersed in perspiration and anticipation. I’m in the first class compartment on the high-speed rail from Hangzhou to Beijing, but the free juice and cookies are hardly dulling my senses, maybe a whisky or an oversized bottle of soju might work.
I can only sit and wait for what lies ahead. as my beloved phone, that I’ve come to rely on so much over the last 4 months, like a leper delirious from fever tossing and turning, in and out of electromagnetic subconscious.
It feels like I haven’t needed it at all up until this point, only for, perhaps, an address of a club or the news or the full and shallow facespace. So I sit, alone and lonelier, but probably just for the time being.