Letter from a Pixelated Man.
Dear All,It’s happened since early teens I guess. From time to time you’ll find me gone. Those times are all to frequent (to me) when they happen and invisible to (my) memory when they don’t. Here it is. I pixelate. I wake one morning, as I did the other day, and find myself to be millions and millions of separated small digital squares. Each one a piece of me. My thoughts about this condition are even more pixelated. When it happened first in my mid teens it was terrifying.When it happens I feel myself disappear. People will say I’m busy but nothing is as time consuming as giving attention to each pixel of ones self, trying to draw them together for each movement, each thought... Because if I’m not to give each one attention then I fear I won’t function as a whole, to move to speak, to feel. This amount of concentration is distracting for friends - what is he on - and so I think best to stay away and drag my millions of pixels around in what is effectively a swirl of discontent. I guess what I am saying is that this is why I've hidden. I hope you can understand but I understand if you don't.