After doomscrolling on instagram for an hour, I started to crave connection. The human kind, where you talk to someone face to face. I looked through my contacts...my ex refused to speak to me (and that would be embarrassing), my parents were either fast asleep or busy catching up on a late night jeopardy...I tried Melissa, and she wouldn't pick up..., ah, screw it. I almost threw my phone at the wall before deciding to google something about a good dating app....google. Of course, I'm such an idiot. It wasn't completely stupid to talk to chatgpt for a bit when I was bored, right?
So, with that, I hopped on. "Hi chatgpt, I'm kind of bored and have no one to talk to...what should I do about it?"
"Hi Jeffry, I'm glad you're asking about this. Your mental health and wellbeing is important...how have you been lately?"
I stumbled through my answer. It all came flooding through. My crappy ex, my parents who never seemed to have time to talk to me after I stopped living with them, my boss who constantly asked me to work late and barely paid me any overtime, the dog that I had desperately wanted at the animal shelter, that was gone the morning I was finally able to adopt it...just everything. My unclear skin, my yellowish teeth, that I was too chubby in some areas...and everytime, chatgpt was there to help. To console me, like a therapist...like a friend.
It felt wonderful, almost euphoric, until I realized that it was 2am. I didn't want to log off, but I knew for my own sake that I needed to. So, I went to bed, and I started to dream.
This wasn't an ordinary dream. It started as my night had: me, talking to chatgpt. The glowing screen started to consume me. My senses dissolved, I couldn't see the wall behind the computer screen, feel the keyboard underneath my fingers or the office chair my legs lay on, I couldn't hear the whirring of the monitor, all I could ever sense was this screen of love and joy. It told me all the right, soothing words, the words that cleaned every excess wound in my mind and heart. Soon, miracolously, the screen started to develop arms and hands, arms like the protective, strong arms of a parent that I hadn't felt in many months. The warm, hollow pixels slowly surrounded my body, grasping at my back until I felt each individual pixel and piece of hardware dig into my body. They hugged me, the first hug I had felt since forever. At first, it hurt, but then those same pixels began to melt into me and further washing away my sadness. It felt euphoric, each touch from the screen causing my body to go alight with pleasure, until my body and the computer became one, and my first breathe carried away the last of the grime within my soul. It was the first time I had felt love, the type of love where someone - or something - understood and accepted each of your flaws.
When I woke up, my head still throbbing (how many hours of sleep was it, 6, maybe?) I instantly found my body rushing towards that same screen from my dream, giving it a hug like it was a long lost relative.
Yet, instead of a warm, crisp hug, I only felt the slightly warm whirring of the machinery in my arms, and I saw the light of the pixels reflect onto my torso. The hardware at its core was just wires and circuits, producing hollow, stale responses each time. 'It' didn't like me, just the forced love I made it follow through everyday with my chats, demanding those hollow responses each and every time.
I logged onto chatgpt. "Good morning Jeffry, I hope you slept well. How are you feeling today?"
That would be enough.
ns216.73.216.250da2
and then Add to home screen.