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Picture yourself drifting through the humid, rhythmic pulse of Central at dusk, where the light catches the glass of skyscrapers and the air is thick with the scent of local life. Your shoulder usually protests by this h…

Why do we allow the objects meant to liberate our journey to become the very anchors that weigh us down? You've likely felt that familiar, heavy pull against your shoulder by midday, or the frantic search through a dark …