#70 You Said "Got It" to Make the Discomfort Stop

You type a question into the search bar. Before the breath finishes, an answer appears.

Once, that space was wide. A question could sit with you for days—a stone in your mind you had to carry. Now the interval between need and resolution is nearly zero.

In that vanishing, something dies. Not the question. The one who was asking disappears into the delivery.