the apps

you know which ones

Brazen jubilent runnings and an arm extended running free and can’t you only see that arm spread out to embrace the world and not the body itself but you know that the body is feeling something and i have the problem where i want to put my face onto the faces of others, i want to touch them with my lips and i want them to eat my face away with their lips and their teeth and small nibbles and i’d be gone just like that, just like a something something to be consumed so intensely and passionately. I want someone to love me and i want someone to love and spend small intimate moments with. But perhaps i’m too picky and choosy to really find someone when i open the apps everyone there seems cold and distant or else they’re freakish permutations of a mirror distorting the images of otherwise normal, maybe somewhat boring people,—and I can no longer stand the feeling of separation. I can no longer stand the feeling of isolation. I’m going to delete this app right this instant before it drives my head out from my body. But wait, just when I was going to delete another name and another face that I think I could love has appeared on my screen, holding my hand out from the screen. There it is. There’s the exposed forearm. keeping my hand at arms reach from deleting the apps and removing myself from its circulation. I can’t stand to live in this time and era. I want to live a real life and not a digital one,—but perhaps I’ve been born in a time after the advent of the real, perhaps it’s been made obsolete and am I the only one who wants to tear down this berlin wall in my pocket? Am i alone in this? i’m so alone. i’m so alone.