My damn phone is attached to my hip pocket
Like white on rice
It’s like a drug or a small child or even a puppy training on a leash pulling at my hand.
Watch me.
Look at what I can do.
Look at me Look look look look at ME
Feed me.
Touch me.
Play with me.
All the time.
Allllll the time.
Sucking me into an electronic hypnotizing vortex
I avoid all eye contact with humanity.
On this contraption every damn day. Annnnd night.
Mesmerized by its blue light and power over me
Like us all
I stare LOL-ing in stitches for hours upon hours transfixed
Looking at my life
on this screen in Helvetica or times
it is comic with sans
We are all blah blah blahing on blogs
bragging about our lives without living them
Panic sets in when we lose sight of it.
OMG!
Where’s my PHONE??????
Like some
peeping-tom diary
Auto correct whore twists my words into pretzels
While I remain a
slave to its charm
It is a sham set up by the government under the guise of connectivity
Tracking me down like an entranced
antisocial media zombie
I have been sucked in
by the dark side
of its glow
It seems to me since this device was invented intended to connect ironically we have forgotten how to communicate.
I am slowly becoming less me and more iPhone.
Put it down.
Say goodbye to it
if only for a day.
An hour
if that’s all you can handle. See what happens
as it sits far away
from riding up your ass.
Turn to the person next to you and say hello.
And laugh out loud.
Take a memo to yourself and declare I am “ME” again damn iPhone.
BohoChickRising.com 