06 Jun Influenced
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Estimated reading time — 5 minutes
I watch the horror film that is news, every single fucking day. I have, shall we say, an unhealthy obsession, with knowledge, and subsequently the ‘knowledge’ provided by my television screen. I just cannot seem to ignore it; I suppose this is due to my primal instincts, provided by evolution. My instincts force my mind to pay attention to potential threats, and yes, forgive my insolence, but images of terrorism, horrid superbugs and violence look a little like threats to me, and they have stolen my ridiculous little life.
This is what I am now doing, sitting ridged in the darkness, with only my television set for company, providing me with a dull, glowing light, once again taking notes on the events of the world, as though I am in fact a reporter, and not simply watching one, with a terrified and aimless expression on my face, slowly wasting away.
I am calculating, and recalculating my chances of survival up against the new potential terrifying apocalypse being presented to me. Today it is bacteria, flesh-eating bacteria to be exact. Apparently it eats away at your flesh, and gains its nourishment from your blood. It sounds positively ghastly, definitely not something I wish to become involved in.
I come to the conclusion that I must stay inside, well, no changes there. I have always been somewhat, socially inept, but in the past few weeks I have become even more immersed in my own company, as though it is a separate entity from myself, able to entice me into solitude.
I make a mental note that I must not open the creaking, wooden door to the outside world, or the dusty windows, for fear of allowing that disgusting, damaging infection into my damp, dimly lit home. That would just be an excuse for some bad shit to happen, not that bad shit usually needs an excuse to arrive, but I sure as hell don’t want to give it one, for if I do, well, then the demise is on me.
I realize that this is in fact somewhat of a shame, because my only glimpses of the ‘real’ world come from my window, showing me the large skyscrapers outside of my home, and the gorgeous sunlight that is so bright it captivates me, perhaps because of how rare it is that I catch a glance in its direction.
Oh well, I must make sacrifices in order to survive in this terrible, uncaring universe, where pain and threats lay just outside, around every corner, in the very air I breathe, crawling underneath my skin, and plaguing my dreams.
I gaze at the news reporter before me, her hair as beautiful as her glowing skin, as though she was photo-shopped in the womb, and was born into perfection. She speaks in a monotone, her voice low, as though she is reading me a bedtime story, willing me to get some much needed rest.
I am exhausted; my brain is painfully fuzzy, and unable to calculate even the simplest of sums, probably due to my overuse of its functions, and tiring paranoia. I can almost feel my eyelids close, bringing me momentary relief, as though all I need in this world, to remain safe and calm, is some fucking rest.
No, no I cannot sleep now, not when I take in the harrowing meaning of her all too robotic words. She is showing me the potential number of human lives that could be lost, over a million, and statistically, wouldn’t I be likely to be one of them? Living in such a compact and large city, where bacteria have the ability to fester and thrive, even more so than the citizens.
I am basically a fish in a metaphorical barrel, with no defenses whatsoever. I attempt to be rational, I am aware that the stories I am being presented with are most likely filled with lies, or at least over-exaggerated truths. However, my minds rationality seems to crumble quite completely when the bright, fast moving images flicker in front of my eyes, as though visibly threatening me, and me personally. Isn’t it just too convenient, that just the other day I entered into one of my strange conversations with myself, that ended in the ghastly topic of bacterial threats, and my deep fear of a zombie apocalypse, and just two days later it is the main story on the news?
It is as though all of these threats are but one entire entity, determined to find and destroy my being, with some horribly aggressive consciousness.
They have been watching me for a long time now, I realize, thinking back to all of the television schedules I have studied, which appear to fit my life’s events, and the ‘coincidences’ that appear to occur daily, such as me speaking to a friend about thoughts that have been spiraling my mind, and finding that the same topic is being discussed on the television, or the newspapers. It is as though they somehow have access to my thoughts, to my mind. Perhaps they are the reason for it.
No, I’m being ridiculous, I’m just a fucking conspiracy theorist, and I sound like a crazy person. But still, the thoughts will not stop, they simply become louder, as though screaming at me, attempting to show me the truth of the matter.
As I glance at the television, cautiously watching the images before my eyes, I come to a starling realization.
I realize that it is not just the news that is in on this, but also the entire media system itself. They are warping my mind, distracting me from the truth, picking and choosing the information I am allowed to know, as though to render me weak, and easily suggestible. Every time I attempt to fit the pieces of this fucked up puzzle together, I fail, I become more confused, and deeply terrified. As though some fundamental part of myself is becoming more damaged the longer I remain in ignorance.
That is the only explanation I can find for all of the strange things that have been occurring. It is the only explanation for why my mind cannot comprehend such simple things the moment I turn on the screen, the moment those dastardly pixels enter my being, and take over my rationality. I hastily switch off the television, breathing rapidly, as my heart beats painfully against my chest. There is still a small, rounded light at the bottom of the television, reminding me that I cannot escape from this, I cannot escape from the pixels influence.
I cannot help but think that perhaps they can see me through these covert means, as though this is the way that they have been able to keep up with my thoughts, and remain topical in my life.
A loud harrowing knock pounds on my door, causing me to practically jump out of my skin, and physically jump backwards, further into the shadows of the room.
They are aware that I know; this must be it.
I shiver violently, and begin to sorrowfully weep, putting my head in my hands, as though to consume my very being, and keep it safe from these dastardly beings, although I know that it will do no good.
My breath is becoming shaky; I feel as though I am in fact exhaling the very panic that consumes me, although it still has not lessened, in fact it is increasing quite quickly.
Soon menacing beings enthrall me, and my brain becomes disturbingly weak. It is as though the organs within my skeletal frame are being mutated, turned into something unrecognizable, and my body is becoming as tired as my mind, as my eyes becoming blank.
Suddenly I come to the realization that this isn’t so bad; the images before my eyes are entertaining after all, so funny, so captivating. A manic laugh leaves my lips, at the sight of my screen, isn’t technology brilliant?
Credit To – Victoria Lendon
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