Quote of the day:
A good friend is worth ten thousand relatives. Latin proverb
I have just returned from a blogging tour. I spent quite awhile reading up on what everyone is doing, thinking, opining, feeling, ideology-ing, describing, living … about. I became involved. Laughed, shed a tear or two, ruminated, reflected, became excited, yawned, nodded my head in agreement … felt whole … in a way. I realized I have come to care about people I do not know, have never seen, haven’t even had coffee or tea or lunch or dinner, or a walk in the woods with. I really don’t know anyone at all.
It seems safe, even supportive when the odd one or two writes a comment. But, suddenly, too, it just feels lonely, alienated and weird. Why do I do this? Share myself so openly and completely with cyberspace, people I don’t know and will never see?
I have always been lonely. Since I was a child. Always looking for community and family outside of my own, where I might feel accepted and acknowledged. Leaving Buffalo two and a half years ago all the abandonment buttons of yester-year were pushed, pulled and loaded to almost explosion. Fear of loneliness and anonymity was tremendous. I turned to blogging. I was virtually saved. Or so I thought.
I can never virtually replace my reality.
But perhaps, I might grab some courage out of this thin cyber-air, this virtual, lonely, alienated and weird space, to let go of my myths, denial states, illusions I have created, and just face reality.
A year ago at Tamarika: Blogger blues