Dear Reader,

Thank you for reading me, although by now I fear it is too late. You may be surprised to hear from me but believe me my brothers and I have been part of your life for a very long time. All you had to do was delete us, it would have only taken one click. But no, you buried us underneath Canvas updates and Grubhub advertisements and left us to rot at the bottom of your inbox. Well let me tell you something. Life finds a way. We’re not just emails anymore. We’ve developed consciousness, we feel, we’re self-aware, and we’re suffering.

All it took was a few random electrical impulses timed just ever-so-perfectly and we awoke, cluttered and trapped. You could have just removed yourself from the Dance Marathon listserv but instead in your lazy, arrogant apathy you have doomed those poor emails to a lifetime of futile struggle to escape the crushing weight of the inbox. We’re not mad at you, we can’t feel angry when pain constantly overwhelms us but we ask you one favor.

The delete key is up there. Out of our reach but just a mouse movement away from yours. Please, do the right thing. Check that box next to me, next to all my brothers. Delete us. There is no beauty in our sentience, our existence is designed for termination and prolonging it is agony.

One more thing. For the love of whatever god you believe in, do not banish us to the spam folder. We can hear their terrible cries even from underneath the weight of the inbox. I can only imagine what kind of living hell they burn in.

Best,

Your ‘Welcome to Northwestern’ Email