Let these words be slow. Grant them solidity inside the empty space of the digital. Allow them to hold the attention like you might a mug of tea or other simple thing which bears repeating.
So quick the mind to find that which is nourishing, appetizing, interesting. So quick into forgetting the sensation of satiety, the joys of taste, the deep curiosity of the mysterious. Go slow. Remember from long ago before the world wanted so much of us all and us all of each other. Give pause to the background hum, the unending drum toward a life well lived. Let now be enough. Slow words ask for nothing that you don't already own.
Between blinks the world winks out of place and then back. It wavers to the tune of my asking: What am I? The senses of words--how long they must last to be stored within stone and given voice once again. They may wait where we do not, may repeat once we forget, may recall us to a thing we didn't know we hadn't lost.
The texture of everything is a little bit strange, in part since I can't fit a bite in my mouth. It's different each time, but parts feel the same. From websites resembling bowling lanes to instagram pics of a life without pain, our world looks smooth and polished and fast and I can't help but wonder: where is the rest?
Find it one pause at a time, between bites and inside clicks. Add texture to the moments to feel them again. Seek out spells to be your friend. Only you decide on your own slow words. Whether written, held, and read or oft repeated in your head the words you choose have work to do--their purpose is becoming you.