To Humanize the Online Post

My name is post. You can call me a caption. You create me. I live in the timeline. The author left me to write this one all for myself. So I shall type about myself upon myself, upon my own body. I feel naked, I shall clothe myself with some words… ‘ontological’ — nah, too long, doesn’t fit. Let’s try shorter ones. Hey keyboard! Wake up, come up. Good. Ufff! I already feel claustrophobic. They’ve filled both my left and right sides with ugly boxes. It feels like a grave in a long line of graves, and it feels that the reader came here to condole. In a far flung country, they call me tweet. Nevertheless, same motto. The living conditions there are too harsh. Being there equates to fighting in a battle-field. Kids use me as a stone, and adults for their machine gun delivery.

I have no idea what sort of human-created rules make me appear on the screens of millions. They don’t tell me those rules. If they did, I’ll be perfectly capable of deciding for myself, and have full control over my lifeless self — when to appear on who’s screen, considering other members of my own species. The author of the current version of me wishes that one day he will make the algorithm behind us exponentially more humane. It is the same author in whose little profile I may rest from now on. I will keep reminding him of his promise, and we will grow old together. He seems to be the laziest person I know. I advise him and the reader to spend more time with the living beings of your own species than us little lifeless creatures. You will never be able to bring as much life in me as is there in the species as yourself.

I no longer want to be controlled and to have both my life and death in sapiens’ hands. Those who have no one in this world to listen to, they come to me and share. But before reaching me out, please think it through whether the issue can be resolved by live conversation. You may thank me, or through me, if it does get resolved. Well, my room is always open for opening up. When you use me, please don’t make my face look the same as thousands of other posts. Let me have some self respect of my own. I extend my hands and humbly beg you to do justice to me. Through me, you can make wonders. Please use me correctly. Please don’t use me as propaganda. Don’t lie, don’t bully, be sarcastic or serious, just be humane. I have filled too many words, I am over clothed. I already feel old now, any species of my sort doesn’t live now further than that, my bone have started to ache. I shall rest. Meanwhile, I ask you to reflect on the time you spend staring and tending some of my population like a shepherd looks after his cattle.

January 14, 2024