Question 29: Just an observation!

Question 29: Just an observation!

Hi Seed

You hang out here, leaving us with your articles, yes, it is intriguing, but it's odd, because you seem to have your life so together and don't need support from us...

Just curious why you are here?

You don't seem like a broken man with a broken heart.

Regards,

Skeptical Suzy

Dear Skeptical

I actually wrote the reply to this question about a year ago, however, since I was so far behind in the question queue I never got around to posting it. Which happened to be a good thing.

Why?

Cause my original reply was crap. I was wallowing too much and my sentiment, though sincere, was nothing more than a load of sentimental rubbish, drivel so to speak. My angst and personality did not shine through. And frankly, with tarnished angst, what good am I to anyone, including myself?

Exactly… I’m glad you agree.

First off, bear with me as I skew the first part of your question, hang out here --- intriguing --- odd --- life together --- don’t need support… are you not being a tad presumptuous? Well, aren’t you?

.

I’m so angry with you right now… I … I … I could rant, but I won’t, for the most part I’m not wired that way. I do rant, but for the most part (again), I keep it together, I collect my misery and put it in a big misery jar, poke one hole in the top of the jar, so it can breath, and every now and then I pull it out of the cupboard to remind myself that life can, pardon me, fucking suck… Next, I reach for the peanut butter, I go to spread some on a cracker, luckily I realize, it’s expired. A lesson for us all: Peanut Butter has an expiry date and it’s a bitch to expel rancid peanut butter… now spit… Damn it! It won’t come out… pass me the tequila…

Does the following paragraph sound like someone “who’s got their life together?” Well, does it?

Why am I here?

So me and Euro Seed can get rich off of your misery?

Nah… that’s a lie?

The short answer:

To share crap. Followed by blunt opinions on why it is a waste of time to wallow in pain when you still have a life to live… including me… I’ve still got some living to do… and if I’m too busy spinning in the past, what a waste, which will turn into a sour and sad story, eventually leading to… solitude.

Solitude sucks! It’s kind of selfish. Don’t you think?

You see, my crap, your crap, everybody here’s (been dumped and the world) crap, isn’t worth the time to beat you down… I know when I say that a whole bunch of readers immediately get defensive and their undies bunch up and their ire rises… what’s ire? Strong anger (literally).

.

Thanks.

Their blood begins to curdle, they may claim: I’m self righteous, have no business sharing my views, and I just don’t understand, my situation is different!

Stir it up with a dash of sarcasm: PLEASE!

Here, the website you refer to me hanging out in, is a great place for people to realize that they are not alone… That others are experiencing pain and suffering, too. To share stories and experiences, and then, to move on a bit stronger.

Those are the upsides. Another upside I almost scathed past… those who come to the site and share their experiences and hurt --- most of them grow and learn from the heartache. The ones who inflicted the pain --- usually, just perpetuate the cycle, making the world a touch more intolerable. There are of course, exceptions. Bitter people have a tendency of trying to highlight the exceptions, instead of focusing on the road to better. Misery becomes their moniker.

Harsh?

The downside to visiting, Here, the website, if the stay is for too long you risk being guilty of enjoying the heartache or looking for someone to agree with why you deserve to be in pain. The longer the visit, the greater risk of becoming terminal and flawed.

Harsh (again)?

But my experiences are different. You just don’t understand?

Although experiences are uniquely individual, and sole property of the rightful owner of the pain pony, not to be diminished by dear friends or counselors, on a grander scale, they’ve likely been experienced by someone else before. Of course (again), their may be the odd exception… if you happen to be one: SHUT UP!

Am I heading far off tangent?

Don’t know, I’m writing this on the fly, the only way I know how, therefore, like me, you’ll have to wait and see where this journey takes us…

The journey:

Time to share experience.

There once was this cute little boy, no more than five years old. He’d was lost for his first five years of life --- roaming solo trying to find his place in this big scary world.

His birth --- a secret. His Mother was whisked away to a dark room on a bright sunny July day… and when he finally came out into the light of the never ending darkness, the doctor in a remorseful tone stated, “He’s alive… what do you want to do with the evidence?”

The doctor turned to this boys mother, asking, “Would you like to hold your son?”

She turned away and the boy was removed from her sight. She was twenty-three at the time, had planned a vacation in a couple of weeks, and couldn’t be bothered, burdened.

Where did the boy go?

Wandering in confusion. Lucky for him… he didn’t know what was happening… and he hadn’t bought into the bond between mother and son propaganda. Or the formative years --- form the future, bullshit.

After his first five years on Planet Earth and being passed around like a hot potato (translation: his whereabouts were unknown), obligation deposited him in a home, a large home, six others, three girls, three boys. He’d play the role of the seventh. As for his Mother, she hung in the shadows, reminding him constantly of the hurt he brought her by being born.

Oblivious to meaning, this young man started playing for attention. “Look at me” he’d shout. Nobody was looking. “I’m over here” he’d bellow. The room was empty… he didn’t know better.
.

A voice echoed above him… “You’ll never amount to much. Your brothers are better than you.” The voice was on a continuous loop. He was still only five. The boy knew no better… he just took it all in and tried to remain unaffected. He failed… just like his mother told him he would.

The boy sauntered, strolled, and then strutted through life, confused, but not knowing better. He developed personality and wit. Scored a helping of popularity. Walked head held high, directionless.

As his journey continued he experienced stints of success with everything he touched, sports, school, friendship, he’d shout out…“LOOK OVER HERE. LOOK AT ME. I’M doing good, aren’t I?” His family had left the room. His voice echoed, silently.

“Dad please quit smoking. Mom you, too. Why did you have me at your ages? Hold me. Come to my games.”

They quit… but they didn’t hold him or go to his games, they were too tired.

Sickness visited… first Dad. On and off for ten years. Cancer paid a visit. Over five years of hospital visits were on his agenda, everyday, as the youngest of seven, the hospital became his second home, his responsibility as the rest of the family had long moved away. He was still only a teenager at the time.

Up and down the roller coaster went. The hospital visits were excruciating. His twenty-fifth birthday came, he remembered the doctor, “He’s alive” and celebrated anyway. The following day he took is Mother and one of his older Brothers to the hospital… his father was fading.

Upon arrival they were escorted to his Fathers room and the moment his Mothers hand touched his Fathers, his Dads eyes went vacant --- and life left his fathers body. A memory he captured. He wanted to collapse, his role was to fake strong.

Less than a year later the shadows cast by his Mother became darker. Cancer again. Another year of hospital visits and forced talk. It destroyed him. Two weeks before Christmas, a bright patch, Mom was sent home… things were looking up. They weren’t.

On the steps of his home, on the way back to the hospital, she looked at him with painful eyes, and said, “I’m never going be home again, am I?” He lied.

Four days later he watched her die. He wanted to crumble. The shadow didn’t lift. He went out that night with friends. His family rolled into town.

When he returned home the next morning, his oldest sister who had just arrived, hugged him, and said, “Mom’s gone.” Next, she broke the embrace, removed the emotion, and asked him to stay elsewhere as they needed his room for the relatives… she had just come in from out of town, she didn’t live in the house, he did. He obliged, anyway.

Years past, eighteen to be precise. He’d gone through life with moments of success, garnered some popularity, developed a rapier like wit, with good, yet subjective looks, he had the odd love dalliance, all without direction. Although obligation was removed --- something was missing.

Then he found love. True?

It was questionable, however, he was swallowed by content.

The love was fleeting, “We’re done…” was uttered. “… you’re a great guy, I want to continue living with you.”

Blindly, he allowed it.

The end of love put into motion a series of events. Over a period of two months: a friend uttered: “My life sucks.” He hugged is friend. His friend repeated those words, walked away, and hung himself.

Another friend was paid a visit by Cancer.

His closest relative, Aunt Priscilla, called, and told him: “I may be dying.”

Less than a month later, she died. He asked for hugs from his ex, he was met with, “I’m moving on.”

He needed to open the door and kick… he needed hugs. Friends said, “You don’t seem to be as fun as you used to be, you’ve changed.”

Relatives turned away, because he wouldn’t come watch his Aunt die.

Three days after his Aunts death, his sisters called, his last remaining Uncle passed away, unexpectedly, the night before. He cried. He’d been crying everyday… He could literally cry on a dime, so to speak.

Misery, misery, misery…relentless.

It was time for him to escape. Europe?

Yes.

As he walked to the Passport Office the shadow had expanded and even on the brightest day the shadow was exterminating hope. “You need a new Birth Certificate before we can issue you a passport.” He was told.

“How long?”

“It’ll only take a couple of days.”

Two weeks later and a call to vital stats. “I need my Birth Certificate… What do you mean my records don’t match yours? What do you need?”

Without emotion, blank, a plain white sheet, the civil servant queried: “Could you phone your parents and ask them who your real parents are?”

Tears blasting. “What?”

.

When he told his Brothers/Sisters that he knew the truth and was beginning to understand things about his... the phone was hung up and they haven't spoken to him since... it's been over three years and counting.

Fast-forward, shadow still lingering, Mom and Dad came back to life. Dad --- a stranger. Mom --- devastating.

Reality revealed: The man, still a boy in many ways, had become an outsider in his life and as for family, he was no longer a card carrying member. He’d been left on his own to sort it all out, assign meaning, and learn to cope.

Fast-forward some more, flip charts now being used to understand who’s what? Brothers --- now Uncles. Sisters ---- now Aunts… and flip, flip, flip… Anyway, a Niece --- now a Cousin, recently informed him his mother, still in the shadows, is dying. She still won’t admit to being his Mother. Scars run deep.

As for his father: he spoke to him for the first time two years ago. Can you imagine saying, “Hi” to your Father for the first time eighteen years after you watched him take his last breath?
.

I can’t.

Present day: He’s going to be meeting his now seventy-two year old father for the first time in the near future… and he still has to come to terms with his Mother’s pending (second) death.

The boy, has to remain strong, if not, it’ll be nothing more than a tragic sad story immersed in misery. If that’s the case, what a waste…

The boy… his story above only scratches the surface. It’s time to press play!

.

Side bar: during the journey, in his adult life, he’s had thirteen surgeries which all required a general anesthetic and hospital stays. And amazingly, the surgeries are only a side bar to his life. So is his blind eye, a side bar, that is.

end of experience sharing.

Why share?

Although not a competition, life has been unrelenting, therefore, I share because I’ve developed a tremendous understanding of, exception. Everybody has a unique journey and I know that the broken hearted want to scream out: I’m different. Look at me. Understand. He did this. She did that. I need the pain. I have children. My life has lost… and on and on and on, forever more.

My having life together is nothing more than an illusion created by need. I have to keep up the façade if I want to help others, if not, we can just focus on the crap and never move toward happy. We all risk being trapped and defined by one traumatic event. I am. I don’t want to be. So, I resist. I don’t want it to be the last story I tell, on a continuous loop. Futile?

I hope not.

As for support from?

My support from “us”: Comes in sharing, and trying to bring the odd smile to… it’s sincere. I don’t understand a lot of individual situations entirely, I can’t, I have no reference. Such as: I’m not a woman, I don’t have children, my husband never left me, etcetera, etcetera…

But I do posses and ample amount of experience, life and otherwise, actually, just life, I’m not so sure what otherwise would entail?

And from life I’ve come to one conclusion: Regardless of whatever garbage is dished your way, it will do you absolutely no good to wallow… you may linger for a bit, but that’s it… if you can’t get unstuck by yourself, seek out the help of a professional. And most important, realize, whatever trauma has come your way, it likely wasn’t your fault, and if by chance it was, quit trying to erase your guilt by a vein attempt at winning back what you cast to the side.

Wallowing in misery is a trap, if you wallow a day, a week, a year or forever more, the end result at the end will be the same --- you can never return to where you’ve come from so ultimately: there is no point in wallowing for too long.

“But you don’t understand…”

If your sticking to that: GOOD LUCK! I hope you prove to be the exception.

Skeptical, I’m here because, as corny as this sounds, “Here” came to me.

Lastly, my heart has been broken on numerous occasions, I just choose to patch it, cope with the pain and store it somewhere in the cupboard, next to the Peanut Butter, as a reminder of life, and then I venture out into the world, smile, and try to share my smile with others.

At the end of the day the only one who can truly help me is: ME.

Others can share the warmth of an embrace and the brightness of hope emanating from their eyes.

Embrace life and try to be happy.

Heartache has a place --- just don’t let it linger. Never ending pain, ridiculous, like Peanut Butter, pain needs to expire.

.

Remember you asked

the seed

P.S. Skeptical, the answer is not directed to your experiences… I’m just incapable of not rambling. I hope you enjoyed!

Question 28 The Sixth Sense

Question 28 The Sixth Sense

Hi Seed

Good morning,

Do you believe in the sixth sense? I do. You know, when you get a feeling and you know it is more than fact.

scary monster
artistic credit: Christian, 4 years old, who was at the next table in a restaurant.

Here is what I want to ask you.

There is someone that I have had a relationship with since July. Only through the internet. We have both agreed that we more than like each other and love is part of our vocabulary now. He has left on holiday for a week. We said our goodbyes on Wednesday evening and he told me sweet nothings and that we would be together and chat on December 3rd when he returns.

Thursday (Thanksgiving) afternoon I go to friends and have dinner. I return home at around 6pm. So I get my comfies on and go to my office to check email. Of course I know there will not be any from "HIM" but you know......wishful thinking. Just as I get ready to turn off my computer I decide to come here @ been dumped. My heart dropped................"HE" was here. He was here one half hour after he arrived to an international country where he is on holiday.

Seed..........remember I told you about the sixth sense?

What I am feeling right now makes me sick to my stomach. What is your take on this?

This is where I met him. We no longer chat here. We chat in AOL.

Regards,

I see many, many things. No, really, I do. Everywhere. They’re following me.

Dear I see things. Many things.

Good morning to you, too. Or shall I say: good late afternoon many months later. Sorry about that --- life has been relentless, I’d like to say consistent, but that would be a lie.

Do I believe in the Sixth Sense?

Before I share my views on having an extra ability to observe on a different plane, level of awareness, a land of funky movie music, let’s back step for a moment: what are the first Five Senses?

“Kitties, extra terrestrials, eye lasers, stronger orgasms and extendable penises.”

No. Who the hell are you? And, what’ve you been smoking?

.

.
The first Five: touch (petting kitties), sight (the ability to recognize creepy aliens, and shoot lasers out of your eyes), hearing (what?), smell, and taste. The Sixth, is something more, something that allows us to perceive the unperceivable without the aid of the original Six.

Extrapolating a bit more:

From the pages screen of Wickepedia my computer!

Extra-Sensory Perception (ESP) is defined as ability to acquire information by paranormal means independent of any known physical senses or deduction from previous experience. The term was coined by Duke University researcher J. B. Rhine to denote psychic abilities such as telepathy, precognition and clairvoyance. ESP is also sometimes casually referred to as a sixth sense. The term implies sources of information currently unexplained by science.

Types of ESP

Many different, or seemingly different, types of ESP have been described:

1. Clairvoyance and remote viewing, the Paranormal perception of people, places or events by means other than the normal senses.
2. Precognition, or retrocognition, the perception of other times via. This is usually considered to be the same as clairvoyance, except that the perception travels through time.
3. Abilities such as Aura reading and medical intuition, the perception of aspects of others which most people cannot perceive.
4. psychometry, clairvoyance, clairaudience, clairsentience, clairalience and clairgustance, the perception of aspects of things which most people cannot perceive, by means other than the normal senses.
5. Telepathy, the ability to sense communications from and/or communicate with people by means other than the normal senses.
6. Out-of-body experiences (also called spirit walking and astral projection), when used to perceive environments by means other than the normal senses.
7. Mediumship, the ability to communicate with the spirits of persons or animals who have died. Mediumship may also include other paranormal abilities.
8. The scientific study of paranormal phenomena such as ESP is called parapsychology, and includes other phenomena such as and reincarnation, near-death experiences, and psychokinesis. It is highly controversial whether ESP abilities exists, and if so which abilities are real.

--- the above education has been brought to you courtesy of Wickepedia.
.

Thanks Wickepedia!

Normally I would’ve come up with my own original ramble, however, I was feeling a bit off, you see, recently, moments ago, online, while doing some research on chat rooms, I was called… a slut, actually… you look like a slut was the exact statement. I don’t. Do I?

Can men look like sluts?

Yes you say… well, then, I must defend myself to the utmost, my Sixth, Seventh, all the way to my Twelfth, yet to be discovered sense, are all indicating without impunity, that, no, I just dress well, and sometimes my… personality shines through. I have a pretty sizeable personality… if the right strength reading or magnifying glasses are used.

As for Sixth Sense --- hell yes. Grab a seat and a gin… as I was educating (see above) and rambling (see above)… you know, my chat line research, you see (again), I hadn’t read your question, yet, except for the first couple of lines, and somehow, magically, I started a diatribe on chatting online. And, then, more magic added, I read the rest of your question and came to your experiences on online romance… hence, my Sixth Sense was kicking into gear at a heightened level, so high that falling could be fatal. Hence (again), I think without impunity, this proves the existence of extra neato’ cool stuff going on, at least, in my overstuffed head…and personality filled pants if the right angle is used.

Hold on… oh my… I think I’m having an out-of-body experience… no, false alarm, I just stood up too fast.

Composure collected, it’s time for me to use some of my clairgustance to tackle your dilemma. I understand that since your dilemma was on the dilemma table last year, not this, you might have already come to a conclusion on what this bastards actions, actually meant.

Mmm… your situation seems to taste a little of chicken.

Okay, maybe clairgustance is not the right sense to use… I’ll just wing my opinion, instead, with some help from a little clairaudience --- those wonderful ‘little voices’ in my… I’m now getting comfy in my ‘channeling’ chair with my ‘channeling’ tonics… give me a second…putting on my ‘channeling’ undies… grabbed the remote… okay, here I go.

Forewarning:

Be forewarned that the following are the opinions of me, when I’m in my comfy chair, wearing my comfy undies, and the opinions of: select entities, realms, deities, spirit guides, and Oprah. The opinions do not, or are not to be confused with the opinions of mere mortals who are not in touch with themselves, or Skippy (an expelled spirit guide who periodically likes to fuck with people). No illicit or illegal substances were used in getting in touch with my personality or other realms.

end of forewarning.

As an at times lost and intrepid soul, I often use myself as a case study to gain reference to how the world is operating. After some painstaking stroking, key, that is, it has become time to be blunt, if not brutally honest, a relationship since July --- only online --- love is now part of the vocabulary --- sweet nothings, I’m sorry to say this guy is likely an ass, perhaps even worse, I can’t judge that. If I had to --- I’d have to say I see borderline predator. I assure you it doesn’t give me pleasure typing that opinion.

Why do I think that way, you may ask?

My spirit guides have told me that, and:

1. He dropped a line and was phishing for ____ on a website (been dumped) where lost souls go to heal, share heartbreak, and hopefully be extended an olive branch. This fucker knows you’re vulnerable and plays upon that with his sweet nothings, therefore, I can’t emphasize lowlife fucker enough.
2. And, this may sting a little. I suggest getting some ointment. Sweetie, you had nothing --- for five months. The virtual world doesn’t really exist. Like said, you were vulnerable and this man was aware of that and played you. Virtual is easy. Virtual is dangerous. Probably more so than the flesh world. Your new flame can hide behind his keyboard and pretend to be anyone he likes. If he happens to have a proficiency with words he can even pull off charming. Virtual is full of promises --- that are never kept, and that is likely a good thing. You disagree… let me explain: If we meet in person in a matter of minutes we can determine, use all Sixth Senses to determine whether or not we have a future and potential for intimacy. That doesn’t mean we’ll act on that potential, it just means we can see the possibilities. Maybe friendship is the best path for us to take --- to be decided over, coffee, dinner, and maybe drinks if we feel safe and comfortable enough. Translation: have determined that each of us are not some sort of deranged… The virtual world, well, that is a whole other ballgame. I do research by chatting in space, like many. Most I’ve encountered are trolling for sex, however, as they troll, they lie repeatedly about who they are and what they have to offer, and about, basically anything they can to make them seem desirable. The blessing of virtual: it usually fizzles out at the potential meeting point as all of the lies come to the stage and therefore, meeting is usually the last desire of those who linger there looking for pray and validation. As said, a good thing. Where it can get tricky: If the phisher is so delusional that, “It’s not a lie if you believe it yourself, Jerry” --- and still chooses to meet, hoping for desperation and a romp in the hay, nothing more. And frankly, if someone is so delusional to still meet when he’s five foot three, Chinese, portly, and missing a limb, when he told you that he’s a six foot tall, firefighter, and a strapping footballer… he’s dangerous. (the above scenario happened to a friend).
3. Extending on the limitations of virtual: Virtual can be a great tool for an initial contact, a hello, perhaps, a place to drum up some commonality. Again, nothing more. The longer virtual remains fleshless, the likelihood of it being nothing more than a fantasy increases exponentially. Translation: If I meet someone online and the sparks begin to fly, we’ve got to meet sooner than later, as later will only result in a let down. It’s easier to share information online and the longer the parties involved hide behind insecurity, past heartache, and keystrokes, the more likelihood that one of them will share too much and the other will be fuelled with information to play a mean game with one quest in mind, sex.
4. I want you to sit down and hold your hands, that’s right, your own hands, it’s nearly impossible to lie to yourself when your holding your own hands. At least that’s what my father who’s come back to life has told me (long story). Get into your comfy clothes if you wish. Good! There is a one-in-a-billion chance that Prince Virtual Charming, is a good man. More than likely he hasn’t evolved much past pubescence, and needs to stroke his fragile ego by pretending to be something he’s not. Sweetie, you got lucky that his true colors shown through. A product of virtual is the game --- nothing more. It doesn’t matter whether it is a dating site or a friendship site, the goal for most is conquests, how many friends/lovers one can amass is some sort of sign of superiority. It’s been created by the Facebook/Myspace phenomena, and we’ve all bought in and are turning into obedient little “bah” sheep. Love and friendship used to go through a process over a period of time where rejection, though it hurt, was often a product of growing in different directions. Now, click --- friendship, click --- romance. Click, click --- rejection, rejection… and again the pieces of broken hearts are scattered around for all to see. In my opinion: virtual serves a purpose, barely, and in reality is a by product of a broken society where love and friendship has lost value with each stroke.

And now for the Olive Branch!

.

Warning: The first part of the branch may be a bit prickly.

As long as you’re spending time sharing your hurt with others you’re not really ready to extend your heart, you may still be too needy, with some things to work through, put in a tolerable place to only be visited on the rare occasion when they’re manageable. Or get some counseling --- if the struggle to happy again is too arduous to handle on your own.

Pricks removed, Senses firing on all cylinders, and, in summation, and, in my humble opinion of course:

• Sixth Sense --- I believe.
• Your Relationship --- nothing more than keystrokes, idle chatter, with the odd touch of tenderness thrown in, by him, as a game. I’m sorry to say, Sweetie, his intentions lacked purity.
• Wishful Thinking --- you’re better than that level of neediness, and, you deserve more.
• Virtual Prince Charming --- nothing more than an ephemeral illusion. Take the kind words he shared as a reflection of your character, but understand his lack thereof, character that is, and erase him from your mind. The Virtual World is nothing more than a playground for the insecure and predators, that is if the relationship is based upon keystrokes. Argue if you must --- I guarantee that most sites are (been dumped excluded) are sites that pray on the human condition and the more people who buy in --- the richer the entrepreneurs who start them get… Virtual will certainly be diagnosed as another addiction soon, if it hasn’t already been.
• Meeting --- IF! It won’t be for intimacy or romance, for the guy, it will be solely for sex. If we’re honest, that’s the end goal of all of our romantic dalliances, and, that’s okay. Sex is good. However, there are only a handful of guys, globally, who are using chat rooms or dating sites for anything else. If they tell you differently --- they’re lying. Think about it for a moment: for guys, it’s a candy shop, a war of attrition, without the investment of the flesh world. No dinners. No coffees. No desserts. Virtual is a place for lowlifes to hone the skill of manipulation with the goal of reaching fornication. And, any long-term virtual relationship, again, for the guy, is effortless. String along as many targets as possible and each one who falls for their deceptive charms… poof… you’re gone. After a quick romp of course --- and your heartache continues. Ask yourself: why wouldn’t the first meeting be about sex? You’ve just shared your whole life in six months with someone you “DON’T KNOW” what are you going to do on the first “flesh” date, tell your story again. Virtual risks ending relationships before they even start as it is much easier to type ones life than it is to speak it. And who wants to know the whole story of anyone else, anyway? Not before the relationship starts at least. Virtual is not the start unless your setting up a coffee date. If that doesn’t happen in the first few chats, run… and don’t look back!
• Last Word --- share what you’ve learned with others. However, don’t linger too long where most are wallowing in misery… a short visit is okay, too long will only delay the coping. Step out, grab a coffee, and open your heart to the real world again.

The road to friendship, the coffee shop, and human interaction has taken a dramatic turn. It may be smoother --- no need to change a flat. Unless your hard drive crashes and you’re forced to go to the store.

At least the boys/girls at GM and Ford, used elbow grease to create yesterdays, Impalas, and Gremlins. And sure, huge profits eventually came their way. But not without a ton of sweat.

Today’s road to friendship starts with a few keystrokes and is paved with instant gold.

Ask yourself: How many friends do you need to neglect at once?

It used to take months, even years, to build friendships and then discard those who didn’t fit. It’s now, in the virtual world, instantaneous, with old friends reappearing --- only to be discarded for a second time. Perhaps, there was a reason they were called “old” friends?

As for romance: it makes me ill also that people prey on the heartbroken, only to perpetuate the hurt.

I see many, many things. No, really, I do. Everywhere. They’re following me: Take solace, you have a strong, real, beating heart, and you deserve much better than virtual. You may not agree with all that I’ve shared, that’s okay, my intentions are pure. Just remember one last thing.

Be Happy!

You deserve to be.

Remember you asked

the seed