THE JOURNAL

This is where the thoughts go. It is quiet here. No notifications. Just text on a yellow screen.
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Yesterday we spoke about love. We did not explicitly say it other than once, a simple "I love you" on text, but we both knew we spoke all day about love. From the cookie missing from the jar that might have been one cookie too much for your diet. From the the afternoon fight about summer holidays. From the silly incident with the rabbit you co-habit with that tried to chew on the router cord. It could not escape our thoughts that all of this talk was about love. Distance is difficult and this screen sometimes brings you closer, only sometimes though. Many times I am indifferent, I see and hear but I feel no warmth. What I see through it only tricks my brain that a person sits on the other side, on the other screen and supposedly cares.

I believe it is spreading and evolving and from a tool it became a black hole that absorbs our most valuable asset. Poof, there goes a minute, did you save it in your memory as a moment to cherish or the CPU powered the screen that drank it right it front of you? Be careful, it is very thirsty.