Though I fetishize anachronisms like typewriters and newspapers, I’m only pretending not to be as technology-addicted as everyone else. In practice going through a day phoneless feels like I’m trying to do everything while wearing mittens. I have to stop and ask a stranger for directions, like no one has done in America since 2008. When I see the beautiful view of the city from the Morningside Park cliff, I can’t Instagram it. I feel momentarily bereft. But it is beautiful! What did I used to do with beautiful things before I had a smartphone? Oh yeah. I wrote them down.
So rarely do I approach the world/ as if it doesn’t have a lesson/ to etch into my skin.
Orla’s Ethics professor starved himself to death; her brother cycled off a cliff. The cantor climbed the church’s steeple and stepped into the air. All in the wake of Orla’s death.