It’s oddly unsettling, the way a person’s cell phone can reflect them and everything that they are.
“My life is on my phone.”
Well, sure. You’ve got your calendar, your alarms, your facebook notifications to let you know it’s your cousin’s birthday, your instagram to save all your precious memories, your memos to keep track of your thoughts, and of course, your twitter feed to keep you in the loop. But thats just on the surface. Thats just on the flesh of your home screen. Dig deeper. You may come to find that the deeper you dig, the clearer your reflection becomes in your touch screen. The conversations between your friends and family never uttered through teeth. The screenshots of messages between you and her from the time you’d probably be better off forgetting. The extensive search history on mental disorders in an attempt to diagnose yourself. The pornographic evidence of all your fetishes. The gifts you wanted to buy the one you love. The less expensive gift you reluctantly had to settle for. Your poetry. Your art. Your school work. The names of everyone you know. Your horoscope. Your financial records. Your diet. The meditation how-tos. Everything you thought was only concealed by the folds of your brain and the blood in your veins, also travels through the circuit board in your palm. Look into your reflection and wonder if you’re looking at it, or if you’re the one looking back.