That's what they tell me,
Too fast to be pitied,
Too slow to be cool.
I remember when the internet was new,
Dial up, forums, bulletin boards, and AOL.
Flip phones, car phones, and CD multidisc players.
Now, it's broadband, AI, and viral vids.
Threads instead of BBS.
The same struggle for connection, though,
For a listening ear.
The same predilection for echo chambers,
The same search for community,
For definition.
Identities that rise and fall as quickly as the newest trend,
Uncertain, unformed.
Malleable, vulnerable.
The same dangers lurking,
The same predators searching for prey,
Just faster speeds
And prettier packaging.
About the Creator
Catsidhe
Pronounced Cat-she: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cat-s%C3%ACth
What can I say about myself?
A mystery wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a walking coffin
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Message Me Afterwards
>That was a bad idea. I thought you knew… >Oh, the pathos! I don’t really know you as well as I should. In fact, I may not know the real you at all. That essential, sparkling you that you only reveal to a select few. Had I been paying more attention to the stories you are so fond of telling, in which you are invariably author, narrator and protagonist, I would not have been so foolish as to set you up on a blind date. After all, no friend has ever done anything of the kind for another. That’s preposterous. What is a friend, really?
By D. J. Reddall7 days ago in Fiction
Comments (3)
Seems like such a sweet throwback, then you twist it dark in the end. Good job!
Good work , writing is bar bending read.
Exceptional writting.