It’s 9 pm and no one has Liked my recent photo for the last hour.
I’ve been checking.
I’m reading a book about coyotes and I keep checking my phone between each chapter.
I didn’t know the book was about coyotes until I bought it. Now I read it uninterested yet oddly enthralled.
Some dumb author I found to be brilliant had recommended this coyote book to me. I guess he’s not that brilliant after all.
I keep reading this book. Like a badly cooked meal you’re too hungry to throw out.
This is the future. This is our 21st century.
I can’t get through a chapter or an act without checking. Feed me the Like. Like good drugs gone bad. Like drugs. The drugs of Like.
It could be worse. I’m not mainlining something that could kill me. Or am I? Likes are deadly substances.
Don’t snort too many Likes or you could OD. I learned that back in 2002.
They ruin our mental state. They take away from reading books and watching plays. About coyotes.
Back with the coyotes I go.
It turns out we’re all rummaging through the trash looking for things we Like. In cities we have no business being lost inside of.
Originally written for The Artist D’s Bloody Typewriter, 05/06/2018.