Posthuman Blues

I've been circling the coffeeshop like a planet tidally locked around a caffeinated star. The same ritual as always, only now I have Web access (unencumbered by hourly fees). I've filled my phone's memory with MP3s; now I'm deleting songs to make room for the new, hoping to achieve some Platonic musical ideal.

I asked a stranger to take my picture. This is the result. His damned finger was in the way and he managed to blur it, but I suppose it's better than nothing. (Note the disembodied foot to my left.)





As you can plainly see, I'm hard at "work."

The network is engorged with digital traffic, so emailing myself hi-rez photos is next to impossible; I need to buy an adapter so I can download directly to my computer.

Wreathed in pixels
Plasmic avatars beckoning from greenhouse skies