I am writing this from a laptop that connects me to four billion people. I am distracted. I am split into seventeen tabs. I am anxious about an email that hasn't arrived yet and a notification that might ding at any moment.
Inside, the house was a cathedral of hums. The refrigerator. The fish tank filter. The low static hiss of the television on channel 3, waiting for the Nintendo to wake up.
That Wednesday, I didn't learn a new skill. I didn't break a record. I didn't post a story. I simply existed . And in the act of just existing, I built the scaffolding for who I would become.