it's 9:58 pm, on July 15, 2013 - -.

~

I find myself checking twitter daily, nearly hourly, wondering why everyone else isn't as attached to it as I am. I reply to every tweet, almost desperately clutching this last-ditch means of connection, of communication with other people.

Of course, twitter isn't real connection; precious few people said anything of importance in just 140 characters, and it requires an elegance of phrase and a conciseness I sorely lack. So why am I addicted to refreshing it, grasping with both hands to the least crumb of discussion? I don't even know. I sit in the dark, while people live lives and then post about it with witty one-liners; I'm incapable of digesting anything longer?

I sit in the dark, mostly, and minute to minute hope twitter will distract me from the fact.

~

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bruise - June 29, 2015

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