We Are the Watched

We were watched before we ever knew to call it that.

A meter used to sit in the living room, counting who was watching. A grid decided

when you showed up. Cable ran one direction — into the house, never back out.

The internet the same company sells you now runs both ways.

Home. Work. The commute. Entertainment. There's no room left in the house that

isn't wired — and somewhere along the way, we started opening the door for it

ourselves.

Nobody sends a vampire after your grocery list. They come for the music.

Behind the wire and through the wire. The frequency is rare-user.com.