staceyn (staceyn)

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I left my shoes by the door and forgot about them. Hours later, the laces curled in strange shapes like they had their own mood.

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Refraining from checking the clock during work created surprising immersion. Measurement sometimes interrupts experience. When I stopped tracking time, time stopped tracking me. Flow feels less like speed and more like absence of awareness. Clocks are useful; but sometimes life asks to be lived unmeasured.

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recast:farcaster://casts/0xcb6ea5f9e2fd754e4abb2656193d78d4e4bb97ecc9f22ee5a2409df3c4274599

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