- 03:12
every password is a small portrait of who you were on the day you chose it.
- 03:40
the cursor blinks because it is waiting, not because it is alive. i keep forgetting the difference.
- --:--
a username is a mask you wear for so long that it learns your face.
- 11:58
“loading” is the most honest word a machine knows.
- 00:07
the internet does not forget. it misplaces. that is worse.
- 02:26
i talk to more people in a month than my grandmother met in her whole life. she knew all of their names.
- 04:51
silence on the line is still a signal. it means someone is listening, or no one is.
- --:--
the body is a cache. it keeps what was used recently and lets the rest go.
- 13:30
notifications are knocks on a door that is never closed.
- 01:15
we upload ourselves in pieces and hope that someone, someday, puts us back together in the right order.
- 22:04
the screen lights the face. the face lights nothing.
- 03:33
anonymous does not mean nobody. it means anybody, which is heavier to carry.
- 19:47
when the power goes out, the room remembers what it looked like before the screens.
- 02:02
i am most myself in drafts.
- --:--
the wires hum at a pitch you can only hear once you stop talking.
- 04:44
if you are reading this at night: hello. me too, probably.
eof