her empty mug is lined with lipstick marks

There is something terrifying about facial hair. The way it wiggles as they gesticulate across the room, deep in some conversation about canned tuna or the raising price of motor oil. The man in front of me has a beard. The kind that connects with his large, caterpillar like mustache. It is the taint tickler, the sack scrubber, the brillo pad in most unfortunate places. Hair is a funny thing, the way people wear it.

Another guy sitting next to them has long silky black hair but absolutely no other hair on his face beside two small lines that, I think, were once eyebrows. He is wearing a brand new or meticulously washed grey hoodie with the white pull strings exactly the same length out. He is perched over his laptop looking at something boring, I presume, and looks like he’s about to start singing Nickleback songs.

A little girl keeps pressing her face up against the window outside and giggling at me. If I painted red on her cheeks and threw a clown nose on her I’d be sure I was tripping. She is not, though, she is wearing a pink rain coat with horses on it. The horses are laughing at me though and now I’m not too sure.

Everyone in here is logged onto google plus.

I can’t focus, the little girl is now sucking on the window.

Okay, she left.

Everyone here is logged onto google plus.

I’ve spent a few days without the internet now.

I’ve started to:

1. Word by word translate a French novel on bisexuality
2. Write a travel guide for a friend of mine
3. Remember to take my vitamins in the morning
4. Wake up at seven in the morning and run out of things to do by nine
5. Listen to music, actually. Listening.
6. Read books before the library sends me late notices.
7. Care about my friends and how their lives are.
8. Contemplate trying new things
9. Write more handwritten letters
10. Be a more thoughtful person (thinking before I speak)

I am at the cafe because my internet is still not back. I find I get everything I need to get done in ten minutes. I ask myself what I spend six hours a day on the internet doing. I can’t remember. I want the internet back so I can catch up with my shows, but part of me is scared. I can already hear myself saying.

Just a few more minutes.
I got an email.
I wonder who is online.
I’ve got nothing better to do.

We all lie to ourselves a little bit and it slowly eats away at us, from the inside, until one day we fall down and the shell breaks and we realize we’ve given all of ourselves away.

One Comment Add yours

  1. LaNeshe says:

    I think an internet de-tox, even a forced one is good to put things into perspective. We forget that we don’t actually NEED the internet most of the time.


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