My Plastic Lover

I know the layout of this keyboard so well that I can write with my eyes closed. No really, I can. Perhaps my keyboard knows me too. We been together for over 5 years now. It’s a love and hate relationship kind of thing. Sometimes I use her to jack off, sometimes I use her to create poetry, and all the other times I just let her lay naked like that. Sometimes I eat over her plastic body while watching a movie.

When I go back to writing, dried up bread crumbs lodge between the letters, giving her a massive stroke. I then have to play a game of operations. I need to surgically remove the bread crumbs. This is not easy as some of the chunks might break off during the procedure and block even more keys. Sometimes I just make her feel good and blow her.

She’s not just a tool. I don’t like writing on the screen on my phone. Well, sometimes I do, but it ain’t the same. Writing on my phone feels like fingering a crack whore. Cell phones have no soul. My netbook keyboard is not even connected to the Internet, thus she is a fully autonomic being. This makes her special, one of a kind. No internet, no distractions. No distractions, more focus. More focus, more work done.

I think this keyboard was a typewriter in her past life. You can really feel it.

Someday I might find her a partner. A real typewriter.

I actually never seen a typewriter in real life. The clank of the keys has to be amazing. Clack clack clack clack clack kszzzzzt. Just like the days of your life. They go clack clack clack, then you die, kszzzzzt. New page.


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