It’s a sunny evening. Fields flash by the train window, cotton wool clouds and blue sky. England is such a beauty sometimes.
I’m going to switch off social media. For me, not for everyone, though that would be quite some power, wouldn’t it? No, I’m going to use an app to disable all those platforms bar WhatsApp. And especially including the news. For one week, I want to try living without being weighed down by it all. I don’t need to be informed; not for the next seven days anyway.
Petrol will go up again. More nonsense will happen here, there, and especially over there - of course. But just for a while, I don’t think I want to know about it. Let it be.
The trees are painted gold at their tips now. Bright sun in the west angles through the window, throwing shadows and shapes onto the carriage and the seats in front. We flicker through the dappled stripes of light and shade. Forest and sun and leaf and siding, all moving like a silent movie, ticking through the frames of a great story.
People used to live like this. We were aware of our world, not just through lenses and screens, not through glossy photographs or even flourishes of paint on a grand canvas - we lived in it. Time was slow, and ignorance was somehow bliss. But it was all real.
I wonder how I’ll get on. Will the news find me anyway? Will opinion and article track me down? I hope not.
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