the computer breathes.
no wait, i don't know if it's breathing.
but it makes comforting in out in out in out airy noises
snuffle snuffle snuffle
like a hedgehog in the midst of winter time. hibernating. and breathing. it's a
it makes me think the computer is alive.
because things that breathe are alive; and doesn't it make me feel better to think
that the one thing i tell my deep dark secrets to, the one constant friend in my life
is alive? it doesn't make me think of myself as so ridiculously pathetic as to pour
my heart out to a mass of wires and microchips
wireheart. micro chip brain. lungs of mice. mouth of speakers. microphone ears. it
listens when i whisper, even if i have to whisper through a microphone.
and oh oh oh oh.
i won't believe you if you tell me it doesn't.
it's alive and it breathes and it's my bestest bestest friend in the whole world,
even if we can't pick daisies in the summertime and have picnics and share jokes.
Last edited: 6 February 2010