I’m glad I lived in a time before the internet,
more specifically before social media,
because sometimes,
only sometimes,
do I wonder if there is something wrong with me for not posting literal updates about me or my life every day or other day,
and then I laugh and laugh and laugh and remember I’m fucking fine and it’s not something I have to do nor is it something I inherently or subconsciously feel I must do …
and yet people do this …
something they could’ve only done by a stretch of the imagination …
is it even comparable to sending a letter??
Dear Person,
Here is a tintype of my morning meal. I have no questions for you but would love if you shared it with your friends and, should they make any comments about it, write them to me as soon as possible.
Love, me.
Most of you should remember what life was like before this menagerie of random bullshit, of random inclinations to share, through social media, how or what we are.
—blu
Flommist Blu is an enigma. A metaphor wrapped in an allegory. ‘I am Jack’s colon. If I get cancer, I kill Jack.’ Copyright © 2017 mechanizzm.
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