When I was an adolescent, I would go to Jones Beach in the summers and would often take a bus home at the end of a scorching day. Once, I was unlucky enough to be in the middle of a stampede of teenagers pressing to get through the doors before the bus filled and the driver had to turn away the spill. They lifted me off the ground, pinned my arms flat against my sides, and took away my air. I thought I might die. This is a little like how it is for me every time I log onto Facebook. I am sure Facebook is good for other people, but to me it feels like the end of oxygen. Everywhere there seems a clamoring to get on before the doors close and all of the seats in the front are taken.


5 thoughts on “The end of oxygen

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