“I am my own social experiment.”
The words lingered in the space between mind and virtual existence, clinging to the form of identity and malleable intent, before dancing into the small text box on the glowing window that glimpsed into an alternate reality.
The sentinel blinked persistently, standing steadily next to the last mark, awaiting further instructions. None came.
To observe, to identify, to consume. Breathing in the essence and meaning of interaction. To wonder, to theorize, to consider every possible interpretation.
The balancing act of conscious and subconscious desire. The internal struggle to hide reality and emit something appropriate for public consumption. The time honored battle between intense fear of betrayal and a profound desperation to be loved.
And so I watch.
I watch, I poke, I prod. I disappear. I become a fly on the wall. I stand in the spotlight. I hide in the shadows. I dance to see if others will dance. I lead to see if they will follow. I follow to see if they will lead.
Her thoughts floated into the air and journeyed to wherever such thoughts go once they have been released from captivity.
Suppressed self-expression scratching at solid walls of supposition and self-denied satisfaction. All for the dread of the unknown, the fear of failure, the horror of naked exposure, the terror that life may be entirely senseless.
Perception impregnates reality.