I keep missing writing
Grown so used
to the speed Of my thumbs
tapping away at the phone
Typing out the words
Almost as fast
As the thoughts in my mind
I barely remember the pauses
That the pen would make me take
Forcing me to think over
The lines that my words make
That’s it isn’t it?
We’ve gotten so used to speed
Things happening at a click
Of the mouse
Instant feedback
Instant gratification
Instant results
That we have forgotten to pause at life
The constant need to do something
Has taken away the joy of doing nothing
Always distracted
Always surrounded by noise and voice
But never in my own company
Within my own mind
I eat food, but rarely savour it
I see images, but rarely observe
I hear songs, but rarely feel it
I go through life, but am I living it?
