Please, Not a Phone Call

I often bargain with life and its velocity, its rapidity. I do not want to arrive at a point quicker. Things used to take time, and with the amount of time they took, they became more important.

Now, with a couple of clicks, I have my train to Valencia and an arranged room to stay in. Do not get me wrong, please. I do appreciate technology; it makes our lives easier, and in this sense, maybe less stressful. Now I do not overthink my travel, because everything is arranged, and if I have any problem, I can communicate with someone who can solve it through a phone call, an email, or even a chat.

However, this easiness requires a sacrifice: the excitement of the journey.

I am okay with that, to be fair, really okay with sacrificing the excitement of the trip when it is for work. I prefer not to enjoy it but to finish it.

What makes me feel blue is that sometimes I wonder whether I have started to carry this urge to finish, this need for completion, beyond work, into all my relationships.

The answer is yes. I sometimes find myself focusing on finishing the day, the book, the game, the food, or the conversation. Anything. This focus consumes all of my energy. I feel the urge to finish whatever I am doing, just to be able to move on to the next thing.

Perhaps I can blame my lack of brain cells for not being able to focus on two or three things at the same time. My ability to multitask is equivalent to the ability of any gill-breathing organism to breathe through lungs.

On top of that, I confess, I am not a practical person, or at least that is what they say. I honestly believe I am. But the people around me do not seem to agree. I am slow and impractical.

So whenever I feel that I have many things to do, even before doing anything, I already feel tired by the mere idea of the necessity of rapidity. It is not exactly overwhelming. I simply feel tired and heavy enough not to be able to turn around.

I do not want to write about the reactions I’m giving to unexpected stuff mentally. Do I have to be that delicate?

All right, I am pulling myself together. I have been writing rather scattered this week, haven’t I? The rapid world and my own slowness seem to be locked in a quiet conflict. I am not adapting easily.

I might even like the speed this fast world offers, and yet being inside a car moving at 140 km/h frightens me at the same time. Perhaps that is why I choose emails, the chance to think before answering, over a phone call.

And still, here is the contradiction. With a single click, seeing the face of my closest friend in a small screen, instantly, makes me happy.

Notes to Self

Before everything;

Doesn’t he look like me?

• There might be a small explanation for my tiredness. It is my dog, Toby. Recently, he has conquered the entire bed overnight. I find myself pushed into the smallest corner of it every single time.

  

• Also, I found a game the other day. It talks to my nostalgic side quite a lot, I believe. Had anyone played this game before?

  

  ps: I was born in 1999.

Something to keep, something to explore.

you’re feeling so tired, but want to do so much

That’s it for this week, thank you for spending a little time with Inner Pages. It means the world to me that you’re here, reading these words. If something in this letter resonated with you, I’d love to hear your thoughts. Just hit reply.

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Until next time, keep wandering.

Ali Baran Y.