Words and the remote control

[squirmelia]

I tumble through the words, bounce off the spaces, and notice my reflection superimposed on the text. My fingertips strike the letters with their pointed flesh, allowing the pixels to form words and my ears to hear clicks. If I write enough about writing, possibly I won't notice that I'm not writing much at all, just trying to avoid picking up the remote control. I wonder if I can apply this to the remote control – point the remote control at the other remote control and hope that it controls the unreal scenes that swirl past my eyes repeatedly each day, hope it makes them appear non-moving, but frozen in time. There is no pause button, so I hope to find a sequence of button presses that doesn't just affect the film that is currently showing, but affects time in general. 1, Mosaic, 4, Question Mark, 3, 3, 1, Go Back.