Black Mirror (Season 1)

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A/N: since it's my first time watching BM, I didn't wanna Google anything about the episodes, so I could totally be wrong about my interpretation, or miss major stuff -- but I'd rather do it without anything affecting my initial judgment. Also, sometimes I get lazy especially if something is too obvious, so I might skip on themes or analysis that I feel like are self-explanatory. Or I'll just breeze through it. I wrote this during what's supposed to be my nap time, so excuse the possible mistakes or if I don't make sense.

Feel free to add your own analysis or what you think each episodes meant, or how they made you feel -- because, so far, this series is amazing for me because it makes me stop and think (and feel -- which is a rare occurrence for me nowadays).

Again, there will be spoilers.

Ep.1 - The National Anthem
Ep.2 - Fifteen Million Merits
Ep.3 - The Entire History of You

• •

"I just spent two hours watching quality tv, enjoying the feel of my mind expanding," Lauren's eyes are burning holes at her phone screen, mumbling as her thumb swipe up and down, "then I go to Twitter for less than five minutes and I see someone under my bible verse tweet asking me if it was a song lyric? Unbelievable."

"Well, that's what you get for ignoring me," Camila voices out from her side of the room. "Besides, why are you even quoting the bible, aren't you like an atheist or something?"

"Camz, it's only been five minutes since I left your bed. I just wanted to check my phone," says Lauren, side-eyeing her, but the obvious shift of her expression from a pouty frown to a cheesy smile is unmistakeable -- she likes it when Camila acts a little clingy, even if it's only because she only wanted to watch another episode and not for the reason Lauren would like it to be. "And I said I don't believe in organized religion, doesn't mean I can't treat the bible as a work of fiction that I can quote."

"Who are you texting, anyway?" Camila asks, lips forming a thin line, the sides of her mouth quirked in a disapproving manner.

"Nobody. I told you I was on Twitter," says Lauren. "Why, you jealous?"

Camila lets out a barking laugh, "of course not, hello! Just making small talk."

"I hate small talk."

"Well, let your phone charge peacefully and come back here so we can have some big intellectual talk," Camila pats her bed impatiently.

Lauren smirks and says, "What's in it for me?"

"Um, the immense satisfaction of having me for company? The mental stimulation you crave for while talking about what we just watched?"

"Hmm, not enough," Lauren teases. "I want more."

Camila gasps, her hand flying towards her chest as if terribly offended that Lauren doesn't find her satisfying. Then she shakes her head and sighs, "fine, can I offer you my cinnamon rolls?"

Lauren raises her eyebrow and sucks on her bottom lip, as if contemplating a major life decision. Of course, it's all just an act because there's really no other option she prefers, so she locks her phone, momentarily gazing at her dark reflection on the black screen -- her shadowy face looking back at her as if from a pit of void she's been struggling to stay away from, the same exact face yet Lauren feels detached from it, like it's an entirely different persona. She blinks and shakes her head then glances back up at Camila and smiles.

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