beluga guts
This song is appropriate to this thought and I'm listening to it as I elaborate.
She's been equated to a squealing banshee with a speech impediment... so.. if that's not your thing, don't listen to it.
I love it; her own voice, her harping, and her arrangements.
It's been a fair portion of my life that I've participated in these online communities.
Fifteen years, give or take.
Not once have my fellows in flesh participated in one with me.
Not once have I taken one of you fellows into the flesh.
But it still leaves an impact; shapes me and the thoughts I generate.
You all develop voices and tones and colors and heights and auras.
I can see you gesticulate.
I adopt your mannerisms.
It's so odd. And has always felt like an outlet for the asocialite in me.
But that's where a duality forms... clearly I'm satisfying a craving for community.
...while also taking hermitry from those fleshy ones.
At the end of the day, it's healthy for me and helps me to interact with people face-to-face; in all facets.
I suppose it's just a moderation thing that might be itching at me right now.
Pandemics give a lot of way for filling voids and justifying certain behaviors... I suppose.
Saturday night,
As I was standing out in my yard, looking through the bare trees that obscure the view to the hill on the other side of the valley
It's a large valley. Miles wide, with a small city occupying the valley.
You can see thousands of tiny lights. Toy cars playing human activity.
The noises, though more audible with the absence of leaves, are faint and inconsequential.
I share with the parallel hilltop, an opposing road that follows the ridge and falls into the veins of the city.
The toy cars play their joyrides there, too.
Such a strange connectedness. They're practically within my grasp.
At the very least, I could traverse my hill, the backyards of my neighbors, across the floor of the valley, and meet them in the middle.
Surely, on foot, I could meet up with those toy cars.
The slightest movement saw the thousands of tiny lights dance in an overwhelming harmony.
Lots of high pressure sodium.
Grow forums...
A thousand conversations rush my reminiscence and force an ambivalent grin.
So many not thought of in so long.
The impressions on my character draw a map of their influence.
The fleshy ones, too. Theirs is deeply ingrained - it shows on my skin.
But the binary ones... they cast an ethereal network.
Like how muscle and connective tissue appear on an x-ray.
Then I look up.
Orion, Ursa Major, Minor, Cassiopea, Castor.
Pollux, too.
The gas giants.
Our red neighbor.
How magnificent it is to think of our connection.
Who else was looking up at the skies?
The lost fleshy ones?
Those "strictly" binary fellows?
Have our eyes been joined by something more than a screen and on/off signals?
How much different are these cosmic on/off signals than the digital?
Where does frequency distinguish itself?
On to the deck to have a lie down while I affix myself at the cosmos for some time...
Drifting in and out of each other's presence.