Late Night Thoughts of a Post-human Disaster
Hmm. I haven’t really slept an appropriate number of hours since the sixth grade—the year I discovered late night re-runs of Two-and-A-Half-Men. In high school I was pirating indie-films in the middle of the night. These days I’m watching the sun rise while running the same files through every application offered by Adobe Creative Suite, trying to find the one that suddenly makes my content presentable or even interesting—which is my job and not theirs.
Ever since I moved over from glasses to contacts I’ve been free of headaches caused by the absence of a nose-bridge. So that’s nice. But without the UV-light filtering properties of those particular lenses I can feel my eyes shrivel into the back of my skull as I let the hours of the day wash over me like waves. Hours spent with my eyes entranced by the seamless input and output of information between my mind and my computer’s.
I think my latest doses of cuteness aggression and a desire to have someone near me at all times is related to a short-lived escape from my original form of escapism. An escape from thought. An escape from vision. To be held. To feel the convection of heat between my body and another’s body. To feel the tenderness of feedback without my command from a keystroke. For an intelligence to choose me. To devote time and energy with one’s free-will —to exchange time, energy and devotion with me, even when the information is hard to perceive or cannot be found. To be patient with me as a system subject to failures and shutdowns.
Let’s take this time to be quiet, still and to hold one another. Recharge with me <3
A cyborg formerly known as Sophie