Who are you?

Who is he?Who are you, all ye who enter here, not really entering anything at all except an address in your web browser, pointing your mouse and clicking through cyberspace, traveling like Muad’ib in Lynch’s Dune without moving at all? Who are you that come here daily seeking news, seeking solace, seeking vitriol, or none of the above? As I sit typing in my little darkened bedroom, darkened by the thick clouds that drop their moisture in sheets against my window, I can’t help but feel the surreality of this experience. That words appear from out under my fingertips, and from these words and a few travels without moving, suddenly the whole world can see these words that were never spoken. I can’t help but wonder who you are, because I can never see you.

Some of you I know, yes, but that’s in another world. Here, you are but one of a thousand others, passing by this blog as one would a booth at a bazaar, looking over the goods and seeing if there is anything interesting worth taking with you. If there’s nothing good here today, no problem. There are a million other booths in the bazaar that offer their goods. They’re all hoping you’ll stay for a while, have a look at their stuff, maybe even start a conversation. All without spoken words. All without seeing who it really is you’re talking to. It’s like a bazaar of the blind and the mute, yet with pictures and sound.

I can pour out my heart and soul, tell you my trials and travails, but forever there would be a sheet between us, a veil of electrons and cathode-ray-tubes and ultimately words that separate us by this immense gap. A friend of mine told me that in person I seem nothing like what they read on this blog. That makes me happy. If I appeared in real life as I do here, then I’d be rather flat wouldn’t I? I’d be mute and blind and I’d be hidden behind a glowing screen which isn’t really me at all.

So that’s what I’m feeling this morning.