October 06, 2005

Me Here Now

This is me here now. I haven’t seen an actual human being in 3 ½ years. Haven’t heard a human voice in almost six. Haven’t been in love, haven’t had sex, haven’t sung out loud, played an instrument, shaken anyone’s hand, or stumbled upon anyone I knew or any human thing that I recognize in as long as I can remember.

I have no language of my own. Everything I think and write and say is subject to review and reorganization. Every bit of it has already been done better. Everything I long for I’m sick of already. I’m the one who sat in that chair right before you did.

My gratitude for what I have is spoiled by hunger for what I don't. How much is enough? I don’t care, how much is possible? I’m the one who sat in that chair right before you did.

Give me your phone number. Do you feel threatened? Give me your phone number please. Dead technology. I'm the one. I wrote this. Do you remember my name? That's O.K., me neither.

I wonder sometimes . . . what is it we all want? And what happens when we get it?

From: Dead Technolgy Play