to all the bloggers out there
Semi sorta dedicated readers of residue scraped from the inside of my mind after too long spent cyber surfing
These extrapolations of thoughts rendered into ambiguously bold statements like:
"Of course she's a lesbian"
Randomly entered at the next space provided after a clear and concise personal analysis of something relevant
Or at least I think it's relevant
To whatever exactly I glean from publishing these pages of my daily routine, romantic collisions, work stress, general instability issues and my growing disillusionment with this whole reality thing
A fair portion of which were very inaccurately, yet carefully, typed in varying degrees of drunken stupor and extraordinarily colorful THC benders
And yet, dear readers, you still humor me
In sparse but wonderfully anonymous heartfelt comments posted sometimes just minutes after my last illustrious listing of,,, whatever the hell it may be
Like the most perfect and honest form of conversation
Where two parties with absolutely no connection past boredom and similar stopping points on the information superhighway can simply say to someone else
"wow... that sucks."
Or: "hopefully she's bi"
Which is all we're really looking for anyway
We don't want answers because there's never a question asked in earnest
We're bloggers
Meticulous archivists of our generation's most wonderful failing:
Our brilliance
And complete lack of desire to utilize it to any significant benefit
So we turn to livejournal for that utterly impersonal pat on the back and virtual thumbs up
Myspace to inform our Friends with up to the minute status updates punctuated with smiley or sad faces
Or sometimes cocked slightly sideways with strange facial expressions faces that the genius Tom, or Rupert Murdoch, felt most perfectly defines the moods available in the easy to use dropdown menu
I still haven't quite felt right to update mine with Ninja yet, but I'm waiting anxiously for it
In the meantime I'll keep checking my online Friends listing to see if my ex girlfriends are around
Blocking friend requests from Rosalina who lives in Schenectedy who really, really wants me to join her and her naughty friends in their new online community
Just follow the link
To the other side of the monitor's looking glass
And see what's really underneath all that late night text posted in hopes that someone, anyone will just follow the same link you did and read it
It's our own reflection staring back at us as we type the volumes of our lives out on empty entry fields
We're all sitting in the biggest café ever
reading books, or magazines, or painting our nails, or playing with the straw in our cup and listening, waiting
for someone in our general vicinity to say something devastatingly interesting
or heart wrenchingly personal so you can validate a dwindling hope in humanity and know that there are still humans out there
but instead of tableside conversation we interact with strangers through post comment buttons
just follow the link
forward, reply or, in the worst case, block user
just follow the link
and find me
typing out the immediate inspiration of my ups and downs daily
maybe check out my photoblog
just, if only to say nothing more than "hi (dot dot dot)"
follow the link
and talk to me
Poetry by David W Durney
Read 763 times
Written on 2008-04-11 at 03:42
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Dear Reader,
I think there's at least about a dozen of youSemi sorta dedicated readers of residue scraped from the inside of my mind after too long spent cyber surfing
These extrapolations of thoughts rendered into ambiguously bold statements like:
"Of course she's a lesbian"
Randomly entered at the next space provided after a clear and concise personal analysis of something relevant
Or at least I think it's relevant
To whatever exactly I glean from publishing these pages of my daily routine, romantic collisions, work stress, general instability issues and my growing disillusionment with this whole reality thing
A fair portion of which were very inaccurately, yet carefully, typed in varying degrees of drunken stupor and extraordinarily colorful THC benders
And yet, dear readers, you still humor me
In sparse but wonderfully anonymous heartfelt comments posted sometimes just minutes after my last illustrious listing of,,, whatever the hell it may be
Like the most perfect and honest form of conversation
Where two parties with absolutely no connection past boredom and similar stopping points on the information superhighway can simply say to someone else
"wow... that sucks."
Or: "hopefully she's bi"
Which is all we're really looking for anyway
We don't want answers because there's never a question asked in earnest
We're bloggers
Meticulous archivists of our generation's most wonderful failing:
Our brilliance
And complete lack of desire to utilize it to any significant benefit
So we turn to livejournal for that utterly impersonal pat on the back and virtual thumbs up
Myspace to inform our Friends with up to the minute status updates punctuated with smiley or sad faces
Or sometimes cocked slightly sideways with strange facial expressions faces that the genius Tom, or Rupert Murdoch, felt most perfectly defines the moods available in the easy to use dropdown menu
I still haven't quite felt right to update mine with Ninja yet, but I'm waiting anxiously for it
In the meantime I'll keep checking my online Friends listing to see if my ex girlfriends are around
Blocking friend requests from Rosalina who lives in Schenectedy who really, really wants me to join her and her naughty friends in their new online community
Just follow the link
To the other side of the monitor's looking glass
And see what's really underneath all that late night text posted in hopes that someone, anyone will just follow the same link you did and read it
It's our own reflection staring back at us as we type the volumes of our lives out on empty entry fields
We're all sitting in the biggest café ever
reading books, or magazines, or painting our nails, or playing with the straw in our cup and listening, waiting
for someone in our general vicinity to say something devastatingly interesting
or heart wrenchingly personal so you can validate a dwindling hope in humanity and know that there are still humans out there
but instead of tableside conversation we interact with strangers through post comment buttons
just follow the link
forward, reply or, in the worst case, block user
just follow the link
and find me
typing out the immediate inspiration of my ups and downs daily
maybe check out my photoblog
just, if only to say nothing more than "hi (dot dot dot)"
follow the link
and talk to me
Poetry by David W Durney
Read 763 times
Written on 2008-04-11 at 03:42
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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Elle |
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Anne Westlund |
