It's four AM and I'm sweating with frustration. It's been a week since I had my last fix, the last time I jacked in. The cat, that damn nuisance, mistook the cable for a play toy and shredded it beyond recognition. I'm looking at it now, the stringy guts of wire and fiber-optic cabling strewn at odd angles, the rubber cover sickeningly showing the innards of a useless computer component. I'm going to be sick if I continue staring at it.

The device itself, what we so affectionately call "The Plug", is fine. If it wasn't for the disintegrated wire which connects it to my computer, I'd be using it this very moment, locked and lost in a world which can't possibly exist. I miss the soft hum of electricity when it's working. Now it'd be more useful as a door stop.

Pixie will suffer for this, I know it. Cats have a way of being scarce when they've done something "wrong," but she will not escape the scathing brunt of my ire this time. Maybe I'll lace her flea collar with catnip. That'll be a fair approximation of the torture I've had to endure this last week.

The company I bought it from said that they'd send me a replacement within one business week. Translation: buy ice skates, hell is about to freeze over. I've thought about going to a chop shop and buying a new, generic one, but I can't even afford that. This was a birthday present from my ex-girlfriend. Ironically enough, she broke up with me three months later because I was spending too much time on it.

Enh. Let 'er go. Cyberia offers me more than she ever did. I mean, it has everything she doesn't: an owner's manual, user-friendly interface, warranty and easy access to information. Maybe I shouldn't have said that to her; it sounds kinda insulting now that I read it in black and white, doesn't it?

I've tried using the monitor, after having rooted around in my attic for it, a process which took more hours than counting stars, it seems. My time would have been better spent reading a book. The monitor is just too damn slow and one-dimensional (okay, two dimensional). I don't get the same panoramic viewscapes, the same colors or textures. Lighting is piss-poor. And the thing is so old that it actually flickers, like some sort of weird video tube epilepsy. It's going to die soon, too, and then what?

God, I don't speak to You very often, but could You please find it in Your heart to give me back my Plug? I've been keeping the terminal behind my left ear nice and clean, just in case You decide to grant me this small miracle. I promise, if You do, I'll keep it quiet. I won't tell a soul. I just want it back.


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