Dear person or persons unknown,
I wanted to tell you something. On my walk home tonight, at the zebra crossing I pushed the button even though there were no cars on the road. I pushed the button and walked across, knowing that after I was gone the lights would change and any car that appeared would be forced to wait for no one. I wanted to tell you that I do this often. Most days, actually. I wanted to tell you that I enjoy making cars wait for no one.
It made me think of you.
Oh person or persons unknown, do you do that too? Do you push the button at the empty road? Do you spit the liquorice centre back into the packet? Do you stick your foot out when a jogger goes by? Do you choose the wine glass that’s a little bit more full even if it’s not the one closest to you?
The thing is, person or persons unknown, I’m trying to understand you. I’m trying to understand if this is how you live your life or if this one act is your first and only transgression.
Please tell me, why do you still have an active internet connection in my house when you no longer live here? Do you enjoy paying for facilities you can’t utilise in order to block the enjoyment of your tenancy successors? Did you decide that we should co-exist, both tied into internet contracts we can’t use – offline together and yet alone? Is this your way of making a human connection?
I think about you, person or persons unknown. I wonder what you’re doing now. Did you go travelling? Did you eschew technology entirely or is it just the internet you hate? Did the internet break your heart? Did the internet make you miserable? Did the internet make you so bitter and twisted that you’ve decided you don’t want it, but if you can’t have it, no one else can have it either?
I know the internet can be hard, person or persons unknown. I think I understand what you’re going through. People can be cruel on the internet. People can be happy too, happier than you are. More successful. Richer. I can see where you’re coming from, person or persons unknown.
But the truth is, I quite like the internet. And it’s getting dark now. It’s getting cold. I’m lonely. I’m frightened.
Please, person or persons unknown, send help.
A version of this post was sent by email on the 23rd October 2016 as part of Internet Care Package.
ICP is a weekly email that includes memoir-ish snippets like the one above, links to great articles and dog memes. This blog is a select archive of those emails. Subscribe to get them right in your inbox.