On Luxury.

How luxuries change over the years.
Circumstances! - not generational, even.
Age! - not income, to a certain degree.

How the growth line of luxury hits a flat line when its life source is sucked to its core.

Time. Oh Time is of the essence, my dear. Offline is not the new luxury, time is.

You can bundle up all the worlds most luxurious goods and gadgets and bags and cultural events, but they all implode in their nothingness if time is a fugitive.

Time to think. Time to read. Time to breathe.

It all depends on time.

Time to sing, time to love - time to have Time.

Time is the new luxury and we are all out of it - rummaging through expenses and gasping for satisfaction, throwing them all around in desperation, climbing the endless ladder, racing on a treadmill.

Give time to time, my dear. Its always been by your side.

Oh, Silence.

I sit in silence, a state of reality I once abhorred. I sit in both silence and pleasure listening to sounds I had long forgotten. My heart beat. The jingling of the necklaces I superstitiously never dare remove afraid all that I have is result of underserved luck. 

The rumble of turned off technology.

I sit in silence and I finally appreciate its oxymoronic filled emptiness.

The phone rings and shatters the thin crystals of peace that rapidly formed, hastily, knowing they are but temporary embryos dying to live in clocks moved merely by ignited instances. Ignoring the phone and whisper to those newly befriended crystals, that they don't have to be afraid and may come back to me. I love you now, I say – ungrateful me! One who until this day despised their free peace bringing offer.

Silence, oh dear silence. Let me mingle in your abyss without paying permanent rent. Let me enwrap my whole beaten body in your silky winds. I promise I’ll let you come unannounced and listen to your voiceless infinity.

Silence, I love you now – I say.