Many days I dream about losing myself in the biggest urban sprawl. I delve into a sea of people. I become more and more inconspicuous as I drown out all physical significance. By operating incognito, the city provides me with an invaluable eye-opener, a visit to the belly of the beast, to what civilization has brought us to in this era of my birth and eventual end. I get an eyeful glimpse and a whopping mouthful. Ironically, I am reminded of being in one of those restaurants where multiple TV screens show various channels all at once. Project nervous breakdown. The brain is whirring to process the array of stimuli it is being bombarded with. Out of habit, I instinctively place my hand in the pocket of my coat but it feels empty. Fingers scramble for that familiar weight. My outdated iPhone is gone, and I wonder why I hadn’t realized it earlier. I am overcome by the liberation of having to document and memorize this moment inaccurately. No doubt the final result will be augmented or diminished by default. Maybe that’s the essence of good stories to share; free of filters and slack wisdom.