🌐🌐🌐Please Like and Subscribe to My Funeral🌐🌐🌐
👁👁👁By Felonious Academic👁👁👁
ARE YOU SURE HE'S DEAD?
💀The obituary said he was dead.
💀Yet, Facebook seem to disagree.
💀Three months after his funeral, Danes account was still posting. Nothing too dramatic. Just the occasional photograph from years past, a birthday notification, some ancient lockeroom jokes resurfacing in someone's feed like his corpse was climbing out of a dumpster to tell you he still has Wi-Fi in heaven.
💀 friends initially found it comforting. those hardly coping hated the shit. His family reported the account repeatedly, but the platform kept sending her the same ol okie doke of a message,
💀We’re sorry for your loss.
💀Then Dane started liking things.
💀Not new installmens. Old admissions.
💀Photographs from his childhoods mispent youth. Comments he'd never got around to responding while alive. A post his grandmother had written the night he died.
💀“Ill miss you. Call when I find mom, stay logged in.”
💀The notification appeared two tics of a clock later.
💀Dane lynch liked this.
💀She called customer service screaming.
💀They surpeezed her telling her it was probably only some algorithmic glitch of sorts.
💀That explanation worked momentarily until Dane done sent his homeboy a private message.
💀“I'll see you at the crossroads”
💀As if he was singing along to bone thugs in the afterlife.
💀 staring at the screen for nearly an hour.
💀It was exactly the kind of stupid joke his homeboy would have made.
💀Dane!?
💀The typing indicator appeared.
💀Three dots.
💀Disappeared.
💀Appeared again.
💀Then
💀I'm not sure.
💀After that, the messages became stranger.
💀Dane began asking questions nobody online should have been able to answer. Where had they buried the photograph he hated? What was whispered into his coffin? Why had his aunt lied during the eulogy?
💀Eventually, he asked the question that made everyone stop walking in their sleep
💀If you can still see me, am I actually dead?
Nobody answered.
💀But the next morning, Dane's profile picture changed.
💀It wasn't a photograph from his life.
💀It was a photograph of his grave.
💀And beneath it Facebook had generated a memory,
💀You have memories with Dane.
💀His kinfolk stared at the words until they began to feel obscene.
💀Because Dane wasn't simply surviving online.
💀He was becoming something else.
💀A digital ghost doesn't need a body.
💀It needs fuckin witnesses.
💀And as long as someone keeps clicking Like, keeps sharing the photographs, keeps commenting I miss you, brother, keeps feeding the machine little pieces of the person who died, the dead man's profile continues accumulating evidence that he is still socially alive.
💀Then Dane posted one final message.
💀No photograph.
💀No joke.
💀No status update.
💀Just six fuckin words,
💀Please stop remembering me for me.
💀The account disappeared thirty seconds later.
💀refreshing the page.
💀Nothing.
💀But somewhere, according to the little green dot beside his name, Dane Lymch was online.
💀And he had been online for 47 days.
💀The question was no longer whether Dane was dead.
💀The question was whether death still meant anything in a world that refuses to let the dead disappear from the matrix.
The Inspiration for this one came to me based off a very close, close friend passing away last year. Only for ol Felonious to be haunted via his still active social media accounts.
feeding me his profile every time I choose a recipient from my contacts list. It still feeds me memories as if he's still breathing air.
Nice to see you back in form:) Creepy because it is true.