Real Life

Off-line is so empty.
The sound of bills
slapping on broken tile
echo emptiness over
the perpetual motion of
a single low decibel fan.
As if worried into movement
the fridge clicks,
shuddering with the.
unaccustomed effort
of cooling a slice of
yesterdays pizza.
Its unhappy motor
ejects a din that
smoothers all but
the most insane thoughts.
Outside a gunshot rings out,
its sound-wave cracks,
forcing a moment of
un-requested reality
into the room.
Unrestrained it also
wakes a tiresome dog
that exists only
physically chained
down in the street.

We exchange mad barks.

On-line is so full.
Stuffed to the brim with
the energy of raw thought.
Overflowing, in a
Streaming avalanche,
it cascades out in
true colour vision.
This glaring energy
jumps invisibly through
reality, seemingly direct
from machine to mind.
Only a flickering
distorted duplicate in
the eyes belies the
heightening of emotion
and shading of thought within.
A myriad of lives
and imaginations dissected,
disseminated, devoured.
The feelings of many
focused so one can feel.
Shared contact awakens
untouched feeling inside,
short snippets of others
join to make a life whole
and also a part.

I blog our conversation.

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