It draws us after it, the immediate impact of that sensational rectangular glow. Even without it in our thumbs, we go shoulder surfing looking at the screen of another.
The adult impulse is voyeuristic. We look externally, to see ourselves portrayed in other people. We are good replicas of ourselves.
It’s no wonder we fall victim to other peoples’s dreams, racing to the bottom of conformity rather than pushing the edges. If the self is woke, don’t fix it.
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