We seem to have forgotten that a computer is fake. It has no hands, it does not know love, it cannot get mad, it does not pray to God. It cannot do anything truly original. Yet to us everything we do on a computer is reality. It entertains us, we can have sexual feelings on one, we can order food, buy a house, create with it, make movies, send emails, fix peoples looks, paint, talk, wave to, breakup with someone 3000 miles away in under a millisecond; even convert that to kilometers or centimeters or inches. We can find out what is wrong with our health, how to cure an ailment, or do pretty much anything. It is an addiction. Its rubbish, its spell check. The computer is an addiction, the horror of an alias life. The isolation it provides can be stolen. A computer can break without warning or blow up in your face. We can see the world, hear some depressing news, feel bad and then feel better and then feel nothing. We live in a world where we think we can delete, convert, rewind—devoid of consequence. You are engaged in the great trick. You’re probably still reading this.
Yet it is fake,
Yet it is fake,
Yet it is fake!
Might be skipping.
Yet it is fake.
Eventually you’ll get it,
Still fake.
Always will be.
It is in its very nature, fake.
Are you still looking?
Test it-just add water.
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