I shall make myself a hermit, disconnecting from virtual realities, reconnecting myself to physical reality. My obsessions overtake me. I am losing my humanity to tribalism, that pre-modern urge which won’t leave us; except this tribe offers me no shelter. I am losing my control and sanity to screens. My imagination slips away. Can I somehow take it back? I shall steal it back. I have reason for thankfulness, am thankful for a job about which to complain. Yet depression overwhelms me. The world outside my office overwhelms me. The worlds inside my chest and head overwhelm me. My life has barely started. Still, I want less of what I see. Call me a hermit. Tell me, “You’re hiding from reality, fool.” Silliness. I am well aware of the world. Don’t bash in my head with rhetoric. I’m positively stewing in psychological discomfort. Obsessing over so much steals my mind. Obsessing over “I” robs me blind. Poison spreads in roots across my brain. Can I somehow take back my brain? I shall steal it back, my mind. Leaning toward being a premodern man, my next step, I shall make myself a hermit of sorts. Bio: Ethan McGuire works by day as a healthcare information technology professional and by night as a writer, whose poetry, fiction, and essays have appeared in Better than Starbucks, The Dark Sire, The Dispatch, Emerald Coast Review, New Verse News, The Poetry Pea, and Vita Brevis, among others. His debut poetry collection, Apocalypse Dance, releases through BSC Publishing in the Summer of 2022. Ethan McGuire, his wife, and their new daughter live in the Florida Panhandle near the Gulf of Mexico. You may connect with Ethan on Twitter @AHeavyMetalPen or at TheFlummoxed.com.