Erasure
Tuesday 4th June, Story #156/366

This will be my last entry, I'm sure of it. I can barely feel the keys under my fingertips. If I look this way, my fingers look solid enough and the keys look ghostly, like they aren't fully of this dimension. Or they are hardly real at all. If I look this way, the keys look normal and it's me that looks translucent and hardly-there. It's the latter that's true. I'm certain of it. It started with Facebook. Those little blue thumbs. Then Insta, and the hearts. Then tiktok, and twitter, and threads and and and... I'd post a picture where I looked good, or thin, or sexy, or.... And wait for those responses, emojis, comments.. I'd say what I think or how I felt, leaning heavily on the affirmation. I felt seen. I felt real. You can't go sexy too often, though. There's a limit, and then people turn away. A hospital shot, or alluding to some other crisis works as long as it's only occasionally. Cute pets is a good staple. Little did I know that this would become an addiction, and I'd need a greater hit to feel the same effect. Or that, over time, I'd need a pretty big hit even to reach '"normal". That the come-down was leaving me feeling less connected and less seen than ever, and I was spending longer down there in that trough. I know now: this is a feature, not a bug, of all those sites and apps I was using. My friends, if they are friends, haven't said anything. Out of politeness, probably. But they don't see me. Can't see me. When we are out together, you know, in person, I feel invisible. Their eyes skitter over me, see through me, or avoid me completely. There's a reason for that. Deep in the pit of addiction now, when those likes fall short. Because I posted less often, or my thoughts clash with the hive mind. When the algorithm squeezes me... I'm not seen. Not real. I fade. I don't just want views and engagement. I need them. Really need them. I need you to see me. Please. Otherwise this will be my final entry. Even now, my fingers are passing through the keys half the time. + + + + + + + + + + + + Word count, excluding note: 366 Submitted on 4th June at 22.30
*Quick Author's Note* First, and most importantly: thank you so much for reading my story! The ha'penny that Vocal will toss in my hat for your eyeballs landing on this humble piece will be well-spent. I might cryogenically freeze myself before I'm completely clapped out.
If you enjoyed this one, the very best compliment you can give me is to share it, or read another!
I've written about being invisible before, and I've also written about being perpetually Connected. Here they are:
A Year of Stories: I'm writing a story every day this year. This one continues my 156 day streak since 1st January.
Please do consider lending your support to the other creators who are also on this madcap "a story every day" adventure. They are putting out excellent content every day!
The story behind the story: This one is pretty self explanatory, I think.

Leave me a comment: it makes it easier for me to reciprocate the read. I know I am behind on reads, but doing my best to catch up. Thank you Thank you again, most sincerely. Especially if you are one of the wonderful people who has been staunchly reading these daily scribbles since the start of the year. I see you, and appreciate you very much indeed! 😁 + + + + + + + + + + + +
About the Creator
L.C. Schäfer
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I'm not a writer! I've just had too much coffee!
Sometimes writes under S.E.Holz
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