[drama]
this cyber thing is sort of a veneer, a covering of our real selves...and its full of holes. when someone else sees what you've posted, what you put out there...they don't see the holes. their imagination unwittingly fills in those blank spaces...and who can not trust their imagination to fill those holes with the best possible, personal things that we think amazing?
case in point: i've had numerous, NUMEROUS dreams where some of my online friends are present. how can this be? what data do i have in my mind to build them into actors in my head besides the paltry sum available on the site? what makes them walk and talk and say the things they do in my dreams when i've never experienced (more's the pity) them at all?
'tis my imagination filling in the holes in what i know about them, making them into these goddess like figures where everything about them is everything i ever wanted, ever loathed in its terrible rightness.
i spend the days after these dreams in a haze of melancholy longing, demon imagination running rampant, scraping claws of desolation through my skull. these sirens, these pinnacles of prim perfect perfection sit poised over my soul like gargoyles, benevolent and cold and unknowable.
i grind my teeth, muscles aching in my head, as i do what i do best and draw the red, razor edge line betwixt warm, impossible fantasy and florescent pale flawed reality.
more's the pity.
-----------------------------------------
i don't know you. you're the most beautiful thing i've never met. i miss you. your understanding leaves holes in me when it's gone. it's reality, baby, and it hurts...but so does everything else. the box you've placed me in is good enough for me, at least only if you walk by every now and then so's i can look out and be reassured by your fading shadow.
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[/drama]
yeah so hi. aside from working enough hours to make Francis of Azzizi kick babies this week, i attended, rather strangely, the National Symphony performance of Beethoven's whatever last night. i have to admit i was really really digging on it, even from the nosebleed seats. pics of us drunk in suits and being all out of place in a dive bar afterward posted.
-pb
this cyber thing is sort of a veneer, a covering of our real selves...and its full of holes. when someone else sees what you've posted, what you put out there...they don't see the holes. their imagination unwittingly fills in those blank spaces...and who can not trust their imagination to fill those holes with the best possible, personal things that we think amazing?
case in point: i've had numerous, NUMEROUS dreams where some of my online friends are present. how can this be? what data do i have in my mind to build them into actors in my head besides the paltry sum available on the site? what makes them walk and talk and say the things they do in my dreams when i've never experienced (more's the pity) them at all?
'tis my imagination filling in the holes in what i know about them, making them into these goddess like figures where everything about them is everything i ever wanted, ever loathed in its terrible rightness.
i spend the days after these dreams in a haze of melancholy longing, demon imagination running rampant, scraping claws of desolation through my skull. these sirens, these pinnacles of prim perfect perfection sit poised over my soul like gargoyles, benevolent and cold and unknowable.
i grind my teeth, muscles aching in my head, as i do what i do best and draw the red, razor edge line betwixt warm, impossible fantasy and florescent pale flawed reality.
more's the pity.
-----------------------------------------
i don't know you. you're the most beautiful thing i've never met. i miss you. your understanding leaves holes in me when it's gone. it's reality, baby, and it hurts...but so does everything else. the box you've placed me in is good enough for me, at least only if you walk by every now and then so's i can look out and be reassured by your fading shadow.
----------------------------------------------
[/drama]
yeah so hi. aside from working enough hours to make Francis of Azzizi kick babies this week, i attended, rather strangely, the National Symphony performance of Beethoven's whatever last night. i have to admit i was really really digging on it, even from the nosebleed seats. pics of us drunk in suits and being all out of place in a dive bar afterward posted.
-pb
VIEW 27 of 27 COMMENTS
The docs have me all fixed up now. I am ready to take over the world as soon as you lead the way.
I loved the middle part of your journal. But it made me a little sad,.
[Edited on Nov 09, 2004 1:24AM]