To the end of LOL's

*NOTE* This piece was written in 2001 (or thereabouts)


There are times in your life when the hardest thing to do, is facing the demons you've had throughout every step of your existence. It's not so much the facing them, it is the purging of them that's the most difficult. Laying them to rest, or wrestling them to the ground, once and forever.

It turns out, that is what I have to do. I've fought long and unsuccessfully to run as far and as fast from issues and hang-ups. Buried myself in work and other indulgences, only to to find my demons, waiting around the corner, welcoming back into the fold, with open arms.

I've effectively lost my mind. I'm not insane or unsafe to be around. But I've lost my way and my purpose. I was put on this earth to do great things, to move people and open hearts and minds. Its a big thing, a herculean effort, and the only way to do it effectively, is to strip away the things that distract you from your work. I've been distracted too long.

I've grown weary, and disheartened at where I am, and things I've done.

I want my life to be much more that momentary flirtations.. I want warmth and satisfaction, Instead of cold plastic and hints of more. This is not the way mankind is supposed to connect with his fellow. We are creatures of touch, and sensation. Our senses hunger for input, not of ones and zeros, moving at speeds faster than perception, but in whiffs of earth and traces of sunlight.

When did it become justifiable to relinquish the attempt to connect on a human level, why is it now acceptable to hide behind facades of acronyms and double entendre, blatant profanity and nick-named body parts. Why would you venture out of yourself to touch the hand and heart of a newly met friend? It is too risky, too unchartered, too unsafe. The possibilities of failure and disappointment have become hurdles and deadly obstacles to days when meeting face to face was the only acceptable form of friendmaking

I too am guilty, I covered myself in a cloak of mystery.. made from all sorts of insecurities that I carried with me from childhood to adulthood. Lived in fear of rejection and ridicule. It's a lonely life, when the guardians of the gates are large slobbering beasts that tell you your best is not and never will be good enough. That you, as a person are somewhat lacking, and in that lack are repugnant and repulsive to others, no matter how worse off they appear to be.

But that's just me, one voice among incalculable numbers of solace-seeking people. Needing and grasping at anything that gives comfort, compliment, and carnality, to them thats needs it. I can't blame them. I, in that number, have sought love in the eyes and words of those who could not possibly return it, in the amounts my wounded psyche needed. I've used those, who like myself, simply needed to be needed, to be wanted and desired, to be lusted after and adored for my weakest attribute. Its a drunken whirlwind of needs, far out of control and not one whit aware of what is left in its wake.

I too have sped home, dodging those, unaddicted to this plastic and silicon narcotic. Couples weaving in and out of waves of other couples, and solitary but involved individuals, only to slump in a chair and "jack-in", fixing my cerebellum with the purest "shit" known to man, the needy needing the needy. We feed on each other, syphoning ephemeral whisps of involvement, awaiting the "long email", punctuated with "lol's" and ";-)'s", tales of quiet weekdays and heady weekends. Promises of days when the veil of electronica is lifted, and flesh will touch flesh, eyes will not look through man made proxies, but real eyes meeting real eyes, emotions coupled with real touch, senses filled with real scents, the touching of lips and hands, hearts and hips, skin to skin delights.

These are the promises of the machinery, this is the grail that our fingers and eyes endlessly search for, click after click, scrolling and blogging for, all to the end of "lol's".