To not have a phone is both a frustrating and a liberating thing. The proportion skews more and more toward liberating though as I am starting to get used to it. I am learning that there is really no need to check my email every two minutes. I am missing nothing on my phone; I am missing quite a lot of other things while on it. It’s also interesting to be in this city without a phone for a change, without this device that I compulsively look at. Now, I am free to observe how compulsively everyone else looks at their phone. Riding the elevator with someone, in an attempt to feel less awkward, to distance ourselves from our own fears of connecting or of failing to, of feeling socially vulnerable, we guard against these things with small little screens alerting us to specials on Seamless or new messages on Match.com even though we don’t remember ever having signed up for Match.com.
I had a very long day yesterday, colored by a haze of shame and hungover headaches on and off as I tried to click my heels and make the previous day disappear. There was work and then school. I left my house at 6am and returned at 11pm. For many of those hours, I could not wait to get home and jerk off. At some point early in the morning, on various blogs, I saw images of a naked Justin Bieber. These images were in my head all day. There were thoughts of his ass, of his backside, of his face. People talked to me at work and all I saw were these images. In class, there was talk about viral videos and good ads, and I heard some of it. I was too busy imagining having fun with Justin Bieber.
I came home, I ate a burrito, I smoked some weed, and then Justin and I had a very fun night together.