I scroll, and scroll. I Like a lot, I like some. I bookmark, and comment, and post and repost, and DM and share via DM and Story and reshare a Story and do all the things a good citizen would do. But mostly, I judge. And then I turn around and post novel, inventive, and never seen before groundbreaking content. I post videos of perfection in the form of dance. Down to their powder pink boots, blush sports bra, and red booty shorts completely co-ordinated with the fuchsia lights in our studio.

Every seat in the house is occupied. The man who’s been my neighbor to my left for the last 7 hours yawns and stretches. He seems to make a deal with himself, or perhaps with god, as he shakes himself awake. He settles on the edge of his seat with his hands folded in a silent prayer. My friend on my right is not so silent with her prayer. I can feel her tapping her foot, muttering something that makes no sense to me but sounds like a distant prayer from a land now distant for all of us. The mass of green being projected on the big screen is reflected in her eyes. I look around and see it reflected on the hundreds of faces around us.