Take a number.
Gmail has this button called “Delete Forever”.
I use it all the time, giving total disregard (until today, that is) to the many spam recipes that appear on the bar on top of it.
“Toss with linguini, serve immediately.”
“Bake 30-40 minutes.”
“Serves 8, add extra salsa if desired.”
Sounds delicious? Hardly.
Sometimes I am quite tempted to use the button on myself.
Erase self with just a click of a button. All traces, gone. Dust, cells, dead or alive. Disappeared.
All right, maybe not in the sense that I would want to wipe myself clean off the edge of this planet, but…
Oh, wait. That does sound like quite a decent idea, does it not?
I think I might be content with just being a Joel or Clementine anyway.
“I walked out the door. There’s no memory left.”
Wine glasses tinkle. A dull hum in the background. The smell of rich perfume and fanciful named dishes.
“Do I actually know you?”
“Not at all”.
Mmm. “Not at all”. Why, that sounds like a great comeback line. Breaks hearts, but does the trick.
I click on said button, twice a day at least, but hey – I am still here.
Is it just me, or is that TV show about plane crash survivors marooned on an island with polar bears getting somewhat… stale?