Oh, the meaning of life. Why do we wake up every day? To charge our phones, obviously. But what if we didn't? Why even bother living if not for updating our social media status and capturing those glorious meals for people who don't care? I contemplate these thoughts often, especially on the edge of my existential despair.
Recently, feeling particularly adventurous (or was it morbid curiosity?), I decided to take the 'phone-free' travel challenge. Inspired by the journey of Sally Fakename, who reportedly experienced profound enlightenment in the remote, WiFi-less lands of Neverland, I embarked on a similar expedition.
Deciding rules was easy. No phone, no laptop, no smoke signals. I contemplated bringing a carrier pigeon but figured it would just give me away at dinners. Setting off, I felt a surge of utter emptiness. Not the good kind you feel after a productive meditation session, but the horror of realizing I couldn't tweet my miserable feelings to the void.
Days passed. People say immersing in nature without digital distractions helps you find yourself. I found nothing. I expected epiphanies but ended up conversing with a chatty seagull who seemed to judge my life choices more harshly than my therapist.
In the end, all I really pondered was, if I die alone in a weird, phone-less land, how long would it take for someone to tweet about it? Probably too long. But hey, death's the ultimate journey, right? The one trip you truly undertake solo, no need for a roaming plan.
Here's a scary thought for you: dying alone but your final moments being live-streamed. Ah, modern irony!
Based on the original article "How to Travel Without a Phone".
