Feeling the Filco

Part of blogging is living on the internet and part of living on the internet is living with your computer.

This strange set of interactions between a person and the internet, a seemingly inanimate space of porn and banter, leads to some odd behaviours. It is therefore not unusual to find a patterned and almost ritualistic procedure with how people interact with computers. Even simply starting up a computer can feel eerily familiar; let alone executing a predetermined sequence of operations of applications that have become irreplaceable to your life.

Irreplaceable.

Attached, have you become, to this strange interface, partnership, pact. . . . - fetish - . It is personal, responsive and it interacts with you.

The display becomes an outline of a face, a window, he looks back at you.

enter;

It is inviting to you, into this environment, habitat, the dwellings of a netizen. Your surrounds are delightfully blemished, markings of a biotic life. A cup lines the edge of a table, a pen furnishes a garden of paper and a can lies outside of peripheral vision. Shadows etch from the monitor, faintly tracing these markings, worn features, misplaced items, stickit notes with to-do's, These features are marked.

They are yours.

A horizon of blue, you are embraced by a breeze of colors and a not forgotten sound.

The desktop.

It is familiar, from the placement of windows, docks, bubbles, widgets and stupid fucking irrelevant uac notices all become as intimate, mechanical and intuitive as a keystroke. They leave treads, the keys, with each depression and bounce they float, no. They fly, as though they travel these pages and words with me. . Filco ~

T0fu. –

Busily sexing his new keyboard with his hikki powers <3