You're alone in your room.
It's dark, the screen casting a gentle glow on your face.
The air vents whisper in the background.
You've been here a while.
Here - in the room - You don't get out too much.
And here - online - presumably where you're reading this.
Your eyes feel heavy.
The blue light filter is on, but it only does so much.
This world was never made for you.
You mash the 'Skip Ad' button.
Your body can only handle this space for so long.
Your mind can barely put up with its constant decay.
You sometimes struggle to operate in the real world.
You can function, but you hardly thrive.
With how things are going, maybe its not so bad to leave it behind.
You pound the 'Skip Ad' button.
But it's not like here is that much better.
And the people in charge seem set on making it worse.
You don't really know what to do.
You don't really know where to go.
You feel like maybe you're decaying, too.
You hear a familiar sound.
A click away lies a message from a friend.
On amost Pavlovian instinct, it opens.
You met them a year ago, roughly.
Despite that, you still don't know their real name.
Despite THAT, they're one of your closest friends.
Your eyes skim the message.
They're signing off for the evening, wishing you goodnight.
A little ritual between the two of you.
You've never seen them, not even over video.
The message is just text on a screen, you've seen dozens of nearly identical ones.
But it means something, how could it not.
You type a response.
A packet of information blinks across hundreds of unseen miles.
Centuries of technology deliver it to eyes you've never met.
"I love you"
You're alone in your room.
It feels a little brighter.