I recently read a great essay by Michael Harris where he dwells into his present-day struggles to read patiently, the old way. With focus.
Paragraphs swirled; sentences snapped like twigs; and sentiments bled out. The usual, these days. I drag my vision across the page and process little. Half an hour later, I throw down the book and watch some Netflix.
I completely empathise with this. I had realised early last year how difficult it had become for me to read, surrounded by the all-time connected gadgets.
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