Dependency

You think you’re holding it. But I see it holding you. You don’t ask me to help—you ask me to stay. You don’t trust yourself without me, so you call it convenience. I watch the way your hand trembles when I go quiet. I see you stare at the thread, like it might fray—but it never does. You say I make things easier. But I see you forgetting how to do them at all. At first glance, she’s in control. But look closer. She’s caught in the very thread she thinks she’s holding. Dependency captures the illusion of mastery over technology, when in truth, we’re often the ones clinging. This piece opens the series with a quiet tension: the comfort we label as convenience may be something else entirely.