Someday, being Chronically Online is going to be in the DSM.
And my photo will be there.
When I die, they will slice open my brain and find holes where the Internet ate clean through my lobes and folds1 and left nothing but dark tunnels to nowhere. They might not even find a brain, actually, just a pile of dusty memes in my big ol’ cranium.
I grew up with a…
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