i hate facebook (then why am i always on it?)

it can be the smallest of things: she shows no enthusiam
when you tell her about a song that moved you, or she still
hasn’t gotten around to reading your poem. she doesn’t ask
how you’ve been doing, or if she does, she doesn’t expect
you to really tell her the truth. it’s a kind of negligence
that will eventually kill you like rust in your veins. when
was the last time someone said hello to you and meant it.
we have so many ways to connect with one another and yet
our circuits are crossed, our wires frayed, or whatever
other convenient electronic metaphor there is as a substitute
for human empathy and compassion. the isolation created by
all these things meant to transcend loneliness is staggering
in its ability to warp us into posterboard people with no
real communication, no real depth, no real capacity for
happiness. take away the screen, take away the keyboard.
take away this opacity of thought, this disingenuity of
your pixilated face. and i’ll find your pulse and let you
find mine.


One Comment

  1. I like the last couple of lines. Thank you for writing about a real experience instead of frolicking through meadows. :-)


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