A narrative on how Energy is real and imagined, commutable, attained and ordained.
I puzzled over fixing up one of Jamie’s computers for a while because it had these weird vibes. It’s an old Alienware brand. A going-to-college gift or whatever, because the product was released in a similar timeframe, and I can picture it when I visited him at his first apartment.
It had a mostly vanilla Windows 7 install, a couple games, last login in 2011. And a handful of crippling viruses, which was odd since he was my mentor growing up in all things computers. His account username was “Magistrate,” which belongs to the lexicon of “cool words” we both intuitively knew and used since early childhood, derived from fantasy books, games, etc.
I spent several days running different kinds of antivirus and restorative techniques. But it was super fucked beyond my competency to repair. Rather; by the books, the correct and safest thing to do with an infected “black box” is wipe it clean. So I junked it for Ubuntu. Not just to be practical; the power port is still broken and the specs are obsolete, this is not a practical machine.
Rather, it’s this feeling I had staring at his login, “Magistrate.” I wanted to salvage Windows to preserve this sentiment. Ultimately, I erased it to erase it.
His other rigs never bothered me, I never once considered preserving their similar entitlements. Of course, Jamie would name his other computer “Psionic Master.” Duh. And I wouldn’t. But we’re talking about you and me.
What bothers me is the juxtaposition of his persistent, unique, and likable personality traits (naming his computer Magistrate is fucking cool) with evidence dating to the beginning of his acute deterioration, around 2011, as denoted by the computer’s dysfunction. Like a disappointing time capsule.
Anyway, what’s done is done. Now when I see that machine, it’s empty. Bland. Dull. It’s like, literally just a computer. A thing that there is. A discomfort was once contained in this object and I could choose to engage with or avoid it, dictating the experience or lack thereof.
And yet this vague tension I have surrounding “Magistrate” persists because in destroying this thing, I took the dark energy from it and into myself.
I caught a computer virus.