As our communities grow more virtual the sense of who we are is no longer reflected back to us by our chosen community. This sense of alienation from ourselves leads to an increasingly frantic questioning of our virtual world; “tell me,” we scream, “who I am.” We need to know.

“I am here …” A cry goes forth Plaintive song On electronic Tendrils, reaching Sending out a call Starving for an echo Whispered in the Static hum of Soulless transactions “I am here … Feel me … Are you there … Let me know.”
© B. W. Reed (November 10th, 2010 & January 22nd, 2011)

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