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The break from virtual world has its perks. Reality has an interesting spark that I often forget about. I remember once a friend explained to me why he loved Van Gogh – it’s because he saw and represented reality in such a delicious way.
Reality is delicious. I stumbled around in some city I was transiting and ended up in a burger joint, offside of some main road. I was alone, in the discomfort of not having physical nor virtual company. I ate looking at other tables, one with two old couples sharing a meal, one where two girls were knocking back some cocktails and a third one with 4 young adults. The old table was the most interesting one. Things were slower, they ate, drank wine, spoke calmly, without pretenses. Sometimes when I catch myself speaking in a group of people, all eyes carved on me, I feel suddenly embarassed: all the hand waving, describing a situation which is not that funny, my nasally voice and sentences punctuated by ‘like’s, trying too hard to deliver a weak punchline. Key part is ‘trying too hard’.
On my way here I sat next to a guy who was on Tinder up until the plane took off. I saw who he was accepting, his type – I wonder whether I was his type. Maybe if he’d look to his left he’d see me and we’d strike up a conversation, he’d tell me where he’s heading, I’d tell him where I’m heading, we’d complain about airplane food, make some small talk until some comment which is meant to be a joke sparks up a sobering conversation and discover we fear the same things; we might have discovered that reality is delicious. But I kept my headphones on and hummed to my familiar beats instead.