Tell me a story.
A PA voice sends cracks through the ice of our quiet seating area. Groans are let out in response and people begin to shift uneasily. Another delay and another couple of hours staring at someone probably named Kelsey and her boyfriend Dave as they scroll through Instagram on individual adventures. I wonder, how many miles her thumb has travelled today? If I were to take the pictures and lay them top to bottom over and over and over and over again, could I get to my destination? Shit, I might be able to get there on just the stuff she's loved.
In this lobby, filled with people with their own stories, the idea of actually finding out their stories sounds as uncomfortable as this chair. Yet, desire pings and I'm curious if I can find Kelsey. Sure enough one of the 13 selfies she took with Dave is location pinned. Her life is stretched out before me, 3x6 over and over and over and over again, like an amusement park I can see all her highlights. Here is JKC_Doll at the monument in the city, sitting for breakfast, laying on the beach, a few slutty but not-to-slutty pictures with inspirational quotes. I travelled through miles of JKC_Doll's perfect life, I can't help but like a photo of a dog as it seems real.
I notice she's looked at my story. It's a picture of my shoes and an ironic quote by Paulo Coelho. She knows it's me but I don't lift my gaze to confirm it. My feed is pictures of my dog, my family - my perfect reality. She must find my amusement park boring as she didn't love anything. I feel upset by this, as if I failed to entertain her.
#ellowrites #internet #location #paulocoelho