15

    ‘who is felix?’ felix thinks that real life has little to do with arrangements of words like these. by extension, he thinks, real life has little to do with most iterations of felix entirely. real life, he thinks, amounts to the low hum of the computer, to the fact that the monitor has gone dark, that something orange is seeping out from underneath. real life has nothing to do with the thought that follows, he thinks, that ana was once here, that ana is now gone. real life exists rarely, he thinks. real life exists in the orange bars glowing across the wall, in the clear plastic water bottles littering the floor. real life accumulates without warning, he thinks.
    there might be nothing of real life in arrangements of words like ‘felix sits in his room, watches his fingers move, sees light, hears sound.’ still, at some point he tears open a box, removes plastic packaging, inserts a cord, presses ‘power’- flooding his face with something colorless. ‘undeniably’ he thinks, with ‘real life’.