Well, of course, first thank you for giving us your time.
At the end of the day when someone writes an essay or a poem or a story it is as if they prepare cake and coffee for our visit. Making sure the grammar is clear, the text and voice are inviting.
So thank you.

I feel (at least personally) that we are so disconnected, so faint our presence, that we need the phones to be present in a certain way. It is as if the phone will ratify that we exist when we get that ping telling us someone read our story, or the text from the person we have been waiting for so anxiously.

I wonder if it is that we are so afraid to experience a reality that yes, can be so painful at times (the person we like but doesn’t like us back, the class we cannot seem to fall in love with) that we need to resource to the faltering unreal reality of the curated worlds we live on in any social network.

The phone call, the text take us away from a place where we may have to, even if accidentally, confront ourselves as we see ourselves in the other as a mirror. Or if by chance we utter words we didn’t know we had.
Thank you for your writing.
Pablo