I am OK. I was just thinking then that you and I were different colours in a dream and the two of us made quite a pattern but it was not the one I expected, it was the colour of Saturn and you’d been drinking Daiquiris again.
I do fall for the well-crafted image. Not the one sincerely expressed. Not the one that you were not able to share, but the one that you were sure you could share and no one would know the other side.
We do not show our cold faces, the hands locked tight and withdrawn from one another. Our sweetness is in forgotten moments and impossible to capture. That you had an awareness to do so belies the fact you were not fully present. I would love it if the purity of this could be untainted by being needed to be shared.
I like community. I like worthy flowings of communication between people. I am a little trampled when this becomes mundane, and 21 likes confirm a walk in the park again, a breakfast enjoyed, the occasional opinion expressed. You have compartmentalised what should have been fine on its own. What could once escape and be left unsaid, and was not worth less. It was better.
But I imagine the micro-dot culture, the futile pinging of co-ordinates could make a more connected age – or otherwise more micro-specifically spell its error. We are not communicating better – though our aspirations to do so have increased. We are not being better people, though we heap expectations on each other and pretend that galleries and links to are better than real thoughts shared.
We are not experiencing higher degrees of joy. Though perhaps we were, before we remembered to have it set in icon-ography and press the button that said ‘Submit’.