Getting Off With the Luddites

I spent the spring and summer of 2025 on my phone. It was rarely far from my hand, this time-eating box I used to communicate with my loved ones, read the news, laugh at the brainrot comedic stylings of a few thousand people, navigate cities, check into flights and subway turnstiles, listen to songs, and about twenty-seven other things. I asked it for answers. I followed its direction. It extended my capacities; it eroded me. My phone. It was a neat tile of glass that gave me the world: as instruction, update, entertainment, alarm. It was a vast library and a slot machine. A map and a leash. The year had been a challenging one. The leash, possibly in response, was growing tighter.