user404found

The first result was a blurry profile picture. It looked like me, but… distorted.

The second was a forum post from 2011. I don’t remember writing it, but it remembered me.

The third was a dead link. Maybe that was the real one.

Last week, I Googled: “what does it feel like to forget your mother?”

Google corrected me: “Did you mean: how to delete saved contacts?”

I didn’t laugh.

Someone once messaged me: “You’re not really you anymore. Not since you’re always online.”

I never read it. I saved it.

Now, it shows up again, randomly—like memory drift. Like my thoughts are cached, and someone keeps refreshing them.

I don’t think in thoughts anymore.

I think in tabs.

I feel in loading screens.

Sometimes, when I close my eyes, I swear I can feel someone scrolling through me.

As if I’m a profile—read, not lived.

I don’t know if I wrote this, or if I just… found it.

It was in a folder labeled "Fragments". No author. No date.

I think I was real once.

Before I started thinking in search terms.

If you find the rest of me—please don’t try to fix it.

Just press back.

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