Tinder Profile Meditations

We lost something when we forgot how to get lost. The small blue dot, staring back from the glowing screen, spelled the death of walking together late into the night, stopping occasionally to drink from a bottle, and getting lost as we joyously argue about struggles against the state and capital, or the tenuous relationship between aesthetics and politics, or love as a revolutionary act against the bourgeoise concept of the autonomous individual and its forms of material &cultural reproduction