“Stop what you’re doing and look at me. Read.

“Read. Reading is good for your soul.”

But we were, all of us, deceived. For while we read, the world spun on, irregardless of the import of our emails, the number of our digital friends, the turnaround time between send and receive.

What if once, I tried talking with my neighbors next door rather than the girl across the globe? What if once, I stayed where I was and listened, breathing deeply the air that is here and now, not infinity and beyond? What if once, just one, I tried to care– care about something, anything.

Is it possible to resist the winter that grinds me to cynicism? How is one strong enough to bear such a burden? Is there no one to mediate, no one to help shoulder the load?