It's hard to explain how you feel connected to all these people. The connection just gets more interesting with live reception. Instantaneity is promised by the internet, and similar systems, and delivered. Perhaps, as the man said, there is just what goes in by the nodes, but I think there is more. I don't want to ruin it by claiming that it can be haunted or that everything is "connected," yet there we are. Privy to some version of people you know, think you know, want to know, but they were never so available as now. So we are left wondering if we cross the line by expressing certain sentiments. There to be expressed, but the game is bigger than us now. You see them, some part of them, if only a fabrication; a bond and a secret. You think of something, or hear a song, and then you see they have sent you a message. You wonder if the system knows, or some part of you knows. Just knows. That the signal was there. Waiting for you, or you waiting for it. The shared hemisphere of thoughts, of momentary significance, and hallucinatory fusion. So then, nothing hidden, everything shared, but only in shadow. The real you pulses somewhere else. Calls to you, beckoning. Also freeing you, to sign off and know that we too lived. To a flower in the distance.
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