A Phone That Died

Sipping coffee in the semi darkness of pre-dawn with dim lights illuminating the quiet room. It’s only me, my thoughts, and my journal. I can hear every sound, even my breath. It’s foggy and wet outside, but it doesn’t feel morose, it feels beautiful to me, if beautiful was a feeling. There is time to think, and not to think. There is time to be inspired, to create, and to inspire.

I will not obsess anymore with people that are not real. My phone addiction is dying a slow but painful death. The only people real to me are the ones whose voices I hear or whose faces I see. I’ll notice things around me again, all the little things. Things that are not inside my phone.

A phone is a thing. It’s not alive. It does not breath. Stop breathing your life into it.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: