This is a message from Twitcher HQ:

Welcome to the community. Don't worry. You are not missing out on this hot, new app because you are already signed up. Twitcher is automatically installed on every device, glowering from every screen. It’s the blue light that animates our flesh. It’s the flickering images and the constantly changing text that make us too wired to concentrate. It's the dopamine hits released with every new notification, with every bit/ byte of hope for recognition. It's where the community comes together while being alone in front of their screens. All twitching to the swift movements of the tech conductors on their oh-so-raised podiums. Twitching by the baton. I am hanging on by a thread. Like a piece of raw belly hanging on the butcher’s hook waiting to be chopped. The symphony is a fleshy one. I, a finger-puppet by a string. The string invisible, blue pumping through my veins at at at at at at light speed, my eyes twitching erratically to the highs and lows, the lefts and rights, the ups and downs on the ever-flickering, lingering, looming screens. Whilst I like to think that my eagerly typing, swiping, scrolling and clicking thumbs are the baton and I the conductor, I know I am not. I am merely flesh. I am one of the guinea pigs at the end of the neoliberal spectrum. The consumer that needs to be kept in a twitching state. That needs to be fed, manipulated, seduced. My skin laid bare, I am skinned, overstimulated. Can you die by overstimulation? The flesh that remains of me in front of screens continues to twitch helplessly, primitively and grotesquely at the feet and hands of the self-appointed gods. Self-appointed by capital, tech and data. I am not in control.

Wired flesh in front of zombie boxes. Not yet dead, but static. Undead. Liveness only detectable by the pulse beneath the skin and the swift movements of fingers moving on keyboards like spiders - sure in and of themselves, deadly. It‘s hard to switch off when the flesh remains wired. After working on laptops and computers all day, the phone screen replaces the big screens and instead of switching off we keep twitching. We are all connected on Twitcher HQ.

In the 21st century, some of us go AFK [Away From Keyboard] only when we die.

Yet, we have never been further away from our natural physical form, and, crucially, our finality.

"What individualism doesn't answer is what happens when we die.", said Adam Curtis in an interview in the early 2000s. Combine individualism with technology, which arguably transports us to now, and it becomes even harder to comprehend our own mortality.

At Twitcher HQ we twitch in unison while alone, in chorus while silent. All you hear is the tapping on the countless keyboards, the sounds of the apps and notifications, all you see, the light behind windows. Outside - dark.

Join the community by simply owning a screen, any screen. You will be hooked instantly and ever-lastingly.