ππππ ππππππ’ πππππππ ππ:@tranquilChanterelle They laughed at you, like always. Growled, hissed, tossed you aside like always. The "slow" one of the pack. Not like the other Jades in the cavern, not at all. The faulty one. The weird one. The one who wouldn't amount to anything in life. You retreat, trying to keep it together as you knock on the door to the respiteblock of your only friend. You can hear her, typing away at her laptop inside. No response. You give up, trudging to your dorm, your tired gaze welling up with tears as you enter. Why bother turning on the lights. You instinctively feel around for it, your escape, your portal to another world. Plastic shell, coated with rubber buttons of all colors and size, with the most important one at the top left. You press it. The room lights up, illuminated by white static as your old CRT flickers to life. Moving across the room, you connect your device to it, a jury rigged record player, bearing a glimmering, shining disc, dark gold. It contained the hopes, dreams, echoes of a far-off civilization, long dead most likely. Their media, their pictures and shows and songs however, still remained. The day you found that satellite in the woods, bearing a message from the grave? It was the best day of your life. The player spins a tale of humanity. Empathy, kindness, happy endings. You sit down on the carpet and stare transfixed at the cathode screen. Your favorite program was on. It featured a human familial unit. Something you've longed for, something you've craved before you even knew what it was. You observe how they love each other, forgive each other, care for each other. At the end of each episode they embraced, resolving any and all conflicts that arose during their 30 minute sliver of drama, your 30 minute glimpse into another world. As they hug, you press a hand against the screen. The static on your fingers feels fuzzy. You've grown to laugh with them, cry with them, share their pains and triumphs. They love each other. They love you. This is your family. They'll always have your back. And the credits roll. White text against a black backdrop, the room darkens again as you snap back to reality. Who are you really? πΌπππππ’ πππ
Your mind is fascinating