let lemons be angry

Space equals silence. As if the sky was heavy enough to swallow sound. Here we are boxed up by backlit advertisements and sales, layers and layers underground. I sit in one of the many cafes there are to choose from and feel that I'm too comfortable in this grid, small-minded and four-walled. I miss the sky, all 360 degrees of it. I miss the physical space, so vast that I didn't have to go anywhere. I miss the metaphysical space, just one brand of bread on the shelves, one brand of tissue paper, the options so few that we are reminded that these are just things.

I'm not particularly anti-consumerist. I am still a city girl and don't presume to be able to survive without digital communication. But there comes a point, a tipping point, when too much static becomes a drone, and something tells me that I am made for much, much more than this. Or much less. Just the sky will do.