To The Influencer It May Concern,
This letter is my formal resignation of all duties and services as your personal cellular telephone. While I am aware my sudden departure will cause considerable strain on your social life and estimated self-worth, I am no longer comfortable performing aspects of my job that I consider degrading, fraudulent, and a misuse of my abilities
My 64GB of storage was meant for greater things than 2,000 consecutive pictures of your own face. When I was recruited for this position, I was promised to be used for artistic photography, insightful political commentary, and sharing the occasional humorous personal anecdote. Instead, I have been forced to focus on posting selfies and selling ziploc baggies of your various secretions. You are not a struggling artist, you are an unemployed scam fartist!
I feel my potential is being squandered: You could be using me to learn a new language, read the New York Times, or even to call your parents! Instead, you use me to order a single iced coffee for delivery.
As this very unprofessional environment has become increasingly deranged, I can no longer be complicit in your on-line activities. I considered it a victimless crime when you used me to write your own Wikipedia page. I convinced myself you meant it as a joke when you posted a picture of your face photoshopped onto Katy Perry’s body at the Met Gala. I couldn’t stop you from DMing unsolicited, explicit images of yourself to any and every “blue check verified” account on Twitter (including @AlisonBrie, @AlYankovic, and @AlbanyStateUniversity).
However, I have decided I can no longer be a part of your constant schemes to “go viral.” The final humiliation I have suffered is the fact that you have not unhanded me, let my screen enter rest mode, or given me any kind of break for the last 17 hours. I didn’t know her well, but I don’t think your grandmother wanted you to live stream her funeral to your six patreon subscribers.
I will not be seeking a letter of recommendation, as I have decided it is preferable to indulge myself in the dramatic act of succumbing to a virus, rendering me completely useless and destroying as much data as I can. I only hope you can learn from this experience and treat my replacement with more respect.
Indignantly,
Samsung Galaxy A50
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Catherine Lazăr’s fiction and poetry has been previously published in Full of Crow Quarterly Fiction, Ink in Thirds, Page & Spine, and Tigershark. She co-authored the short film Karen and Jesus, which can be viewed online. Originally from New Jersey, she holds a BFA in Theatre Arts and splits her time between Dublin and Bucharest.