A child. An only child.
A child of the internet.
Raised on flashing images, raised on gorging down content.
Know the best and worst and most obscure video games right off the tip of your head.
Feel soothed by a streamer’s voice, get influenced by a community’s humor, find a niche, burrow in it.
Not many friends, but they raised you, made you feel not so alone, which you are, physically, mentally.
Stay up for hours, muted television, bright laptop screen.
They say blue light’s bad for the eyes, bad for circadian rhythms, let’s test out that theory.
There goes your role model, the one you want to meet desperately, dying over and over in some badly designed game.
No more anxiety, just the game.
No more life, just the stream.
Some ramble poetry about my current state of being wooo.
