they never were, che'lu-hu

I thought it read Cheesecake Factory and now I can’t imagine a difference

and yes we can talk about the death of the third space as a separate conversation

maybe i just need to simplify my life but i'm also hoping that one day my jumbled mindlessness will have a simple explanation with a similar cadence to how historical overindulgences like gambling, tobacco, or sugar are now assessed with a resounding "duh"

i look forward to the era where we have better vocabulary around things i can only describe now as informational overload, empathy burnout, narrative exhaustion, and retention of lived experiences whether physical or virtual.

it's no stretch of the imagination that modern life has fallen together in a way that's not unlike 'autoplay.' i can't deny culpability for how my brain craves text after text, song after song, scroll after scroll, but that doesn't mean i can't describe the circumstance of feeling addicted, either.

this is something i crave in the larger part of my life. often i use my photos app as a crutch to remember what i've done this month, this week. maybe time getting jumbled in our heads is something that's always happened to humans but i wonder if it's really been to the modern degree

the silence i hear when a record ends now doesn't have to be long to beget a familiar type of salience. it feels obvious to describe outwardly but i can only liken it towards digestion in a cognitive context

with music on the other hand--i've long had this annoying syndrome of not being able to name what i've recently been listening to or enjoying for many years. whether that's correlated with streaming or not is tough to say

moving of course promises the "where the fuck did i put that thing"-syndrome to a profound degree. like to the extent that completely erases both direct and adjacent memories about what i packed in that box or where my mail key is. it leaves me feeling humbled and alarmingly clueless.