By Walter Steinwald. (Originally written Oct 2019.)
If I were a screen, I would struggle for your soul, much like seraphim in strife. I would thirst for that inner-core of self, that abstract piece of your consciousness, the little voice in your head when things “feel” wrong. My aim would be to tease it out from your possession with trinkets of thoughts and minute pleasures, dangling shreds of “what if's” and “need to knows” about like tangible thought bubbles invincible and ubiquitous. I would cradle your mind. Even in your sleep I could purr near your side or upon your chest showing my unswerving constancy. No matter where you went or who you were with I could be there…recording, remembering for you, so you wouldn’t need to try so hard to be there; you could always go back later.
Yes, I think God had it right when He asked for your soul instead of your body. What can a body do for us? Not much, really. The screen needs devotion, an unswerving dedication; it feeds from human mesmerism. And here we have the greatest attraction with the subtlest complexities ever to be know in the world: your own self. Comfort, curiosity, self-glorification, would make for a modest though sharp vanguard. By building a mirrored sphere around you, my hands would be free, my goal completed no matter what else should go on. We are all so wonderful.