There’s almost always a point during the day when my constant state of anxiety overwhelms me. Without anymore thought than that, my hand will inevitably reach towards my phone or tablet. Sometimes, when it’s not there, a brief lucid moment arrises and my brain will chastise my body for it’s addiction. Most days however, the hand will slip uninterrupted out of my pocket with my glass and metal slab. I blink, and for a slippery moment my mind wanders back in- it’s been 30 minutes and I’ve learned way too much about nothing. But the craving is strong and before long I need more. I black out again; the body divorced from the mind. Information about everything (and Everything) surges forward and I can’t tell if I’m consuming or being consumed. Its entirety passes through my body and I shit it back out into the ether again. Eventually, the guilt of lost time and spent data peaks and returns me. I feel no better, no worse- my anxieties not quelled nor alleviated- just truncated, remixed and recycled. My only solace is knowing that others are doing the same and probably hate themselves just as much for it. The portions of the colossus do not reassemble- they just drift there waiting to be swiped back and forth.