The Algorithm Knows You Better Than God

I open my phone and it is already open.

The title exists somewhere after this, not before it.

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A question comes back to me without origin.

I used to think unanswered meant impossible.

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That does not hold anymore.

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There is a list of things I like.

Most of it feels authored elsewhere.

I recognize it only after it appears.

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The feed changes while I am looking at it.

Nothing signals the shift.

My attention adapts around it.

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Choice used to feel like starting.

Now it feels like continuing something already in motion.

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A room with no signal exists underneath this.

Boredom stretched longer there, though I cannot place when it ended.

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A motion repeats in my hand.

Not a decision, more like return.

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The system does not wait for input.

It completes patterns as they form.

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Something I meant to ignore becomes something I already engaged with.

It no longer matters which came first.

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There is a version of me that does not refresh anything.

It surfaces without warning and disappears the same way.

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Influence does not arrive.

It is already present when noticed.

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I try to locate the point where it begins.

The search changes what I am looking at.

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A thought appears finished before it is formed.

I follow it backward and find nothing earlier than it.

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God does not enter as an answer.

Only delay where an answer should be.

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The phone is set down.

It lights again without request.