Footage from Dark Souls 2, text, video of me performing limit masculinity
Text:
Eyes of my avatar(s) roll as I perform myself with swapping colors of my armor. IRL it means buying leggings with moral-debt from Ali Express, safety of low price and no cashier to (I tell myself) judge my choice of dark emerald green. Will I cosplay my knight or will she cosplay me? Light tube under my grey-haired self is turned to 65%. Render my manhood in TrueTone and 120 Hz, flickers of feather of my soul set to 50px as I dissolve in enveloping digital void. I stare back at me. My avatar laughs as I look up prices of grey wigs online.
I watch myself reflected by liquid crystals and I imagine you in latex dress as ideals from premium porn pirated by Russian websites creep in. The souls cuckolds itself, caught by the gaze below story filters and scintillating blinds of adulthood. I remember erasing my last.fm records so my profile could be pristine. // It’s 2:20 AM an I can’t sleep, falling down ego-unsettling spiral echoing Arcade Fire’s lyrics as I wonder about past dates and what I wore – sometimes any ideas of beauty can shift in ways that throw horror abject at us. Uncanny valley does not need a machine to hurt. // It must have been damp end of summer and month ever-so-almost-wanting, we didn’t kiss, but DMs did our due dilingence later. Cybernetic tongue tastes after amber and pines.