It's almost like real life.

My cell phone wakes me up. I hit snooze a few times and check for messages. Eventually I get out of bed, stumble into the rainbox, dry off, put clothes on and apply minerals, pigments and pastes to make my face look like something else.

I go to the bus, tap my card, electrons and radio waves turn into permission. I get to work, take the pills that make me sit in my chair and pretend to be interested in the button mashing that occupies the next 8-8.5 hours of my day. I drink out of a cup so I have to take breaks to get more water so my legs don't forget they exist. I poke the buttons on my phone to send messages to people whose faces I would rather see, but I have to get by with their disembodied thoughts.

I turn the boxes full of information from people I'll never meet and places I'm not at off, push in my chair made of dinosaurs that supports this awkward phase of being, and walk back out to the bus stop. Sometimes I walk two miles to my second bus stop. it's a lovely walk along the water, I feel breeze, smell water and dirt, see sky and people doing things pass me by and sometimes even see me. On my walks I feel real. When I don't have 40 minutes, or energy, I take both buses, shuffling and swaying along with the others like pieces on a chess board with no winner.
tap the card, electrons and radio waves. The wages for my button mashing get zapped into my designated number, written on my piece of plastic.

I get home, turn my smaller box of unseen people and places on, punch up the configuration of on and off that signals the place out there somewhere to bring me food, because I can't focus enough to cook. I have to hit the keys of my idea box to make an 6-10 pattern than explains a thing to a professor I will never meet, who lives a theoretical life in some other state. I give them the numbers, they transfer other numbers across the network of encrypted mathematics and eventually a stranger comes to my door with a bag full of protein, carbohydrates, fats and chemicals made, not under sunshine but fluorescent lights, not in earth but in vats and pipes and tubes.

I sit on my secondhand couch from a warehouse of identical, practical and fleeting goods next to my partner as we both live in our laptops, the TV playing to pretend humans are talking while we work and eat and poke around until I can't keep my eyes open, I stumble back to the bedroom on my foam mattress and my pillow full of plastic thread, plug in my phone, check my alarm, and wonder why I cannot get to sleep....