I carry around a thin, rectangular box that some refer to as a phone. It does not look like any phone that I have ever known. It cannot hang on the wall; it has no handle or dial. It is, for all intents, constructions, and purposes, a "black box" that fits into my pocket.
A Black Box can be defined in at least two ways that relay my meaning. It can be - anything that has unknown or mysterious internal functions or mechanisms (this definition by happenstance, also appears to convey my attempt at meaning) or a device that records and stores a wide, varying array of personal information.
I have difficulty calling it a "phone" as I grew up when true phones were large, loud and attached to kitchen walls with noticeable, usable handles with whch one spoke and heard via. I shall refer to my thin rectangular device as "the little black box" because that is physically what it appears to be.
I rarely use my little black box or LBB. I have no outside employment. There are no relatives or friends that I routinely communicate with, thus it has little use to me. Leaving it off is something I do most of the time these days. I answer to no one.
On those times when I used to turn it on, I oft would touch with my index finger, that blue square with rounded edges and the letter "F" in its center. The blue square is not a button as I consider buttons to be raised, tactile, three dimensional objects that take up physical space. Those variously colored rounded squares upon the black box take up no physical space.
The blue square with F, used to be the small area of my LBB used most often. If I was attuned, aware and somewhat present enough to feel the subtle vibrations of universal energies that continually swirl and twirl around us in invisible, fairy-like form, making the motion to touch the blue square felt like walking from quiet solitude into a loud, burgeoning crowd. My own thoughts, if I had any at the time, would quickly recede and cease to exist, ah, maybe more like the thinking, creative part of my brain took a siesta, fell asleep in the back room because the boisterous meanderings of memes, repeated routine hashings, recycled gossip, pleas and righteous indignations (lots and lots, reams and reams of righteous indignations whereby individuals scream and plead for your approval for their minutiae, and petty and grandiose ideals) are deafening and override all sense of self and calm and peacefulness.
Upon the touch of the square, one enters into an imperceptible contract wherein one must agree to self-disclose and share while acknowledging and doing the same with others, like a computerized, impersonal series of conversations with people you know, people you don't really know and those few that are complete and utter strangers but you like something about them or want them to like you or you went to the same school but never met twenty years ago so you must have something in common to share and like. Yes, the amount of strangers who agree to call you "friend" is a measure of your self-worth and right to exist on this planet. Ludicrous but, apparently, a much sought after goal. The higher the friend count, the more worthy you are before God, nature and all you hold as dear. A faulty, illusory, disingenuous sign of false popularity that makes certain people glow a little brighter in their own mirror and show the lines and scars a little less, in thine own eyes, of course.
Here's the thing. One is free to choose how they spend their set hours of each day. It is of no consequence to me of how you do you. It's all okay. As a rule, I do not like sharing in person. Sharing on an open, constantly streaming group chat of repeated old sayings and celebrity quotes just isn't my thing. The blue square which I used to compulsively push each morning, evening and hour, does not own me or hold any value to me. I do not wish to share or communicate or divulge or say the things that I hope others will like and love. I do not care about others reactions to my odd, queer, curious life and its subsequent style. I'm okay just being me without anyone else knowing my business or how I choose to spend my hours.
When I was a child, I wanted my parents and family to love me. In school, I wanted my fellow students, my teachers to acknowledge me. In high school, I want others to like me, and desire to be around me.
I am 60 now.
I do not require anything from anyone.
No family demands. No work or social obligations.
I do not require the rounded corners, blue square box like I used to. I can think for myself. I don't have to pretend anything. I don't have to pretend to like anyone or anything that I, in truth, do not.
You do you. I'll respect that whatever that is. I do me. I do not push the blue square.
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