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Anxiety is the knowledge that death is immanent, a panic attack is the feeling that death is immediate. Anxiety always leans towards a panic attack — and all of us are anxious: I’m anxious, you’re anxious; everyone —
Sometimes a text message can just ruin your day. It ruined my partner’s last night; someone and something ruined mine today.
We’re all so susceptible to being contacted — to whatever travels down the direct channel from our phone to our brain.
Our age is hysterical, hyperactive — it’s hard not to feel like a mass shooting or sexual assault or terrorist bombing is going to happen to you — today.
Or that the sad totem of democracy will finally totter and collapse.
That civil society will go to shit, if you’re professional and personal life doesn’t go first.
Facebook stealing my data is the least of my concerns — I knew they were anyway; everyone should have; it was obvious — stated in the fine print.
What concerns me is all the nervous chatter that envelopes everyone; that pours out of everyone. That pours out of me. That’s pouring out of me.
