Blue Baptism | 1-06-2024 | 3:04
there’s a void that doesn't quite fit into the screen but you keep trying to press it into shape. your emotions are emojis, your thoughts condensed to 280 characters. you are an avatar of yourself, more connected and more isolated than ever.
you wake up, you check your phone. you eat, you check your phone. you lie in bed at night, and check your phone. the blue light bathes your face in the dark, casting shadows where your smile used to be. your thumb, the only part of you alive. faces blur. are they real? are You?
dopamine hits fade faster now. refresh, refresh, refresh. you curate, you crop, you filter your existence. you are static, stuck, a bug in amber.
how many sunsets have you missed while searching for the perfect filter? less flesh, more data. less soul, more algorithm. a tragedy in binary, 0 or 1? that wasn't an insta poll. reduced to 6 inches, and you say size does matter. the world is burning, or maybe it's just another sunset. hard to tell the difference through the screen.
the feed scrolls on, infinite yet empty. you are here, you are nowhere, you are everywhere. human, inhuman, post-human. fingers poised over glass, waiting for the next notification. For what? You have forgotten.
ping ping ping - your heart flutters.
