Under my more common name, I post to the twitters from time to time. No, I am not a well-known, notorious politician.
I tweet various different things. Sometimes I’ll re-tweet an interesting article, or a tweet by someone else. Or I’ll promote a show or something that I (or someone else) is involved in. Or I’ll try to make a humourous reference. Or perhaps I’ll exclaim something about what a stunning day it is. Or mention that I’ve escaped to a place where people can’t find me.
But too often, I’ll write a tweet that is intended for a particular audience. A specific audience.
OK, a specific person.
A person who may have read my tweets once upon a time, but who now almost certainly never looks at my twitter stream. Or my facebook page. Or my email.
But still I post.
I want to talk with this person, communicate, connect. It was a friendship that was important to me. At the time. And still, though it no longer exists in any practical form, if it exists at all.
I keep coming back to a couple of things: hope for the future, and a wish that there is more to this world than meets the eye.
And so I send my words and thoughts out into the ether, and the ether-nets, in hopes that they might somehow reach a destination that may or may not want to receive them.
Apparently, I am a sick, sick, man.