Phones may offer slogans that sell, but books give us wisdom that builds.
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When I was a senior in high school, I admitted myself into rehab.
Not the kind with fluorescent lights and group therapy but a self-prescribed rehab from my constant companion: my phone. My phone addiction took away my ability to sit in silence, focus for any length of time, or engage deeply with anything meaningful. As Oxford Press might put it, I was a victim of “brain rot.”
