death of the internet

The constant scanning of items lulled in the background as I speedily searched for flash drives. They were surprisingly low in stock – I suppose more people knew about the events to occur in an hour than I imagined.

I grabbed a handful of flash drives, and went to the check out. I paid the cashier, and rushed home.

Upon entering my small one-bedroom apartment, I scooped up my laptop and logged on.

I needed to be productive, as the internet would be shutting down in less than an hour.

In all honesty, I never thought this day would come. But the government finally saw all the problems that the internet caused – they really didn’t want their scandals getting out anymore – and they made the announcement. Yet, due to the broadcasting report being close to April 1st. many believed it was a joke.

I, on the other hand, did not want to take my chances. Hence, why I sat on my couch, downloading everything I’ve ever posted onto small flash drives. I wasn’t even sure if I needed half of the things I was saving, but the thought of losing something I could possibly need didn’t sit well in my chest.

“Why did I feel the need to save so many files online verses my hard drive?” I muttered to myself, mentally cursing as the data sluggishly copied onto a third drive.

It seemed to be a relevant question. Why did I bother to save so many things online? The fact that the idea of the internet shutting down made my stomach plummet truly worried me. Why did I allow myself to be so wrapped up in cyberspace?

I suppose we all were like that though. Everyone seemed to be glued to the internet, so much so, it was rare when someone decided to inspect the world around them. Although, I couldn’t blame them, I did it just as much.

Without realizing, my fingers stopped frantically moving files. The clicking sounds stalled.

Why did I waste so much time online?

Did my Instagram theme really matter that much?

Why was I even on Twitter? – I literally just talked nonsense that no one ever payed attention too.

Still contemplating, my thoughts were interrupted by my bright screen going dark. I looked at the clock. The hour was up.

Slightly nervous, I woke my laptop up from its sleep, and held the cursor over my internet icon. I clicked, anticipating my computer to crash, or the program not to load.


It roared to life, the Google homepage presenting itself. It felt like it was mocking me.

So it really was a joke…

For some reason, I felt disappointed. And this feeling grew deeper as notifications exploded on my laptop – everyone was talking about ‘the death of the internet’ and how bogus of a joke it was.

I shut my laptop and leaned back, feeling mentally exhausted, and almost betrayed. A fleeting thought I couldn’t help floated throughout my conscious, but what if we were better off without the internet?

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