Photograph by Brett O’Connor
I used to wonder whether I felt anything at all. But how can I be wondering if I have no feelings? The transparent blueness of my very self seems tinged with an overly emotional spark. If I were painted black, I’d be dark, but that’s not the case. Instead I’m transparent – you can see right through me. Wires rush in and out, carrying bits of information that I spit out into bigger forms of communication.
On. Off. I am blue. You are green. Yes. No. Ready – go.
I used to wonder whether what I said had meaning, but who needs meaning when you have information?
Object relations 
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