A Pixel Monologue

The pixel speaks. A white square grows and shrinks against black while a single voice counts its way from 786,432 to 33,177,600 — VGA to 8K — narrating its own dissolution into the smooth surface of the contemporary screen.

"Try to see the I. The object's boundary that I am. / 1024 by 768, we are 786,432. / People are born today that will never know me. People are born today that will never see me. / We grew up together. Matured together. We were the true accomplishment of a generation. A square. An array of squares. / Unfortunately, you have come to realize that the less you see, the better. To want nothing but yourself. Everything that is other than you is a distraction. A distraction from the spectacle that is your life. / 1920 by 1080, we are 2,073,600. HD. / As gods of the screen, you've slowly been unlocking the secrets of your eyes. And soon we will pay the price. We will move from the seen to the overseen. / You are thrilled. Retina displays, 4K, 8K, Ultra HD, Ultra Mega Super HD. You want to see the world without me. A world where the remainder is erased. / I shall become a trace. An artifact of an ancient world. Wisps of 8-bit. The threads of a world of squares. / Erase me. So that you become everything. Erase me. So that there is only you. / 4096 by 2160. We are 8,847,003. / We have become almost indistinguishable. 7680 by 4320. We are invisible. We have lost meaning. You will never see us again. / Awareness and caring will fade. The spectacle will remain. / I will fade into a blur. The nothingness you desire of me."