FB Posts

With each post, we’ve been trying to see how we can spark a conversation. And not just how, but what type of conversation. It’s been an experiment, this virtual world. An experiment of riches and of failures. We’ve agreed and quarreled. We’ve touched on issues and shied away from them. Each day more and more people share their point of view, their perspective, their ideas. Everyone says what is correct from their perspective, from their angle of view, and it isn’t always right. 

We have shared pictures of our lives, snapshots out of context, painting moments as if it told of the sweeping monotony and minutiae of our daily existence. Then we started sharing videos, saying more while saying nothing at all. Next came memes, a trite bite with a crunchy kernel of truth that wears down the enamel of our toothy minds. At every turn, there has been a try to share something meaningful, something life-changing, something game-changing, and something worthwhile knowing about, reading, understanding, believable, honest, authentic, and (like this) pedantic. 

It’s been an interesting ride on the virtual wave of ‘socializing’. “Here, wear this blindfold. You can’t see or hear the people, other than an image of their face, and their words. You’ll have no idea how serious or how funny they are trying to be. Try it, you’ll like it. In time, you won’t even remember they were flesh and blood, people who made noises with their mouths, people who spoke volumes with just their eyes. Men and women whose beating hearts are precious jewels hidden away behind brave chests. It’s okay, all that stuff was superfluous anyhow…just try it, you don’t need to _see_ these people to appreciate them. And, what’s more, you can know all of them or so many more than you would comfortably fit into one place. Oh, and you _need_ to know them all! As many as you can! Let them be your friends! It’s the wave of the future.”

And somehow that feeling of being alone, of being lonely, persists in spite of these promises. Thank goodness we still talk to and meet with flesh and blood people, the ones we share close proximity oxygen with. 

You’ve been promised the universe and given a screen.

Each night I die.
Each morning I am born.
Every day I’m a wanderer
in an all new house.
Every night I experience a new bed.
My mind holds one of my
hands gently
While pinching the skin of my beliefs
with the other hand.
My heart beats a spurious song
to a rhythm unheard.
My heart beats relentlessly behind a fragile cage,
Making each new birth
possible
Making each nightly death
passable

— Scott Msrmorstein

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