pixel world

I look up from my laptop. The colors and the warmth of the kitchen flood my eyes and body and soul- the glisten of reflected light on a metallic lid catches my eye, then a pine cone hung from the ceiling, dangling below a light, the warmth of the candles against the cold windows shines but is made into a warm golden blur against the curtains. It’s all so surreal. This- is this the world I’ve been put in? Where my life was made to be spent? It is too good to be true- I glance into the glowing laptop screen, then try to pull away from it again. My head tilts and spins slowly around until it drifts back down, facing the screen- my eyes burn. I blink and a white rectangle glows and splits and multiplies over and over and over again. Each time I blink the many white rectangles are in different positions. My nose is stuffy, the screen is sucking my forehead into it. My throat trembles as I let out a cough. I look up and concentrate on the shadows made by one of the curtains which is being pulled back in- in… I cannot come up with the words to describe it. It is only a picture- berries? But, wooden. There are many folds, many shapes, distorted triangles, or squares, rectangles- my cheeks buzz. When I eat, my body seems to tighten into its normal self- normal? Awakened, lively self. I glance out the window at my own reflection, it’s darkened. I sigh. How is it that the world around me is gentle with my eyes, and with my body and my mind, but the computer screen tears it up, slashes against my eyes with knives and beats my temples with sledgehammers- why is the computer screen so addicting? I close my eyes. I see the white triangles. My eyes burn, burn, burn… I have to open them. I blink, my stomach hurts… I hurt. But, my pain doesn’t matter to me. No, not when I stare blankly into the computer screen, letting it absorb my soul, my pain…

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