Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Self-aware angst is the best kind

What's the point of having an a planet-destroying piece of communication technology in my pocket, (a position from which, incidentally, it's probably making me infertile — not that I particularly mourn the loss, though brain cancer later in life will probably suck), if I can't talk to someone when I really need it?

How can I rant about how I'm sick of texting and phones and the goddamn internet, and how I just want to sit in the same room as someone I care about and be with them, if I can't get a hold of anyone via texting and phones and the goddamn internet in order to give said rant?

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