Wanna know what a screen overdose looks like? Red, itchy eyes, black circles. Dry papery skin. Bowed back and shoulders. Numbfucked skull with a mishmash brain. Cynicism dripping off you in big dollops.
Screen worshippers. Believe in the screen. It'll fulfill your wildest dreams. Do whatever it says. Don't ever question. It's smarter than either of us and the whole of humanity combined.
So, instead, just go with it. Let it all fly downwards. Don't want it? Sure we do. Slap it on. More! More! More! I'm a pig in shit. I'm a daffodil covered in dung. I'm a big red cloud that's floating in space, always and forever alone.
What else is it like to stare at a screen for eighty hours straight? My mouth was dry, my lips cracked. I couldn't find a comfy spot on the chair. Everything was out of focus. Words came out slowly and painfully and I made lots of mistakes. I couldn't think very fast on my feet. Every blink was brutal; it felt like my fuckin eyelids had sandpaper on the inside. I wanted to sweep all the shit off my desk and flip the desk over.
This is bullshit I wanted to howl at the phosphorescent moon. We're wasting our lives here. Generations are dying, crucified by the screen, slowly degrading in office chairs and beanbags and couches. Our life is too precious to squander. Our body is too beautiful to toss on the trash heap. Yes, you are beautiful, your body and brain. Don't sacrifice yourself to an electric blue idol. You're far too valuable, too precious for that.
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