The first thing I noticed when I got out was the silence. Not actual silence—Silicon Valley has never been silent—but the silence of relevance.
Everyone around me was staring at their phones. Not texting. Not calling. Just staring. At screens that knew more about them than they knew about themselves. I had been inside these screens for fifteen years. I had helped build the ones that were in their hands. Five years in Folsom will do that to you. Make you irrelevant. Make you silent. My name is Daniel Mercer. I was thirty-two when I went...
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