I had just made a big batch of spaghetti, finished an interesting collection of leftovers, and felt ready to go to sleep with a full stomach...
Then, I made the mistake of getting on Facebook, and getting reminded of how separated I am from "my friends' lives". You know, lots of pictures of them having grand times, and I'm nowhere to be seen.
It's disheartening, it's discouraging, and the exclusion paranoia relentlessly feeds my desire to commit suicide, because I no longer feel like a part of this current world. I want to scream out at the public, because I feel like some shunned hunchback - treated like some oddity that should not be included in social gatherings. (Maybe that's a touch exaggerated, but... 'first draft woes')
It's envy at its worst, as my famished soul looks longingly at others' happy moments and rues the day that I could not be there. Is that enough to empower me to change my life? Yes and no, as some aspects - like the chains of poverty - crush me and yet others were put in place at the desires of others (do not catcall, do not interrupt...???) (again, first draft woes)
I try to point backward at the comments criticizing this medium, and yet I suspect they are now buried deep in the chaos of past conversations. I cling dearly to the in-person conversations of the past, and gnash my teeth at the impersonal exchanges that we rely on, here, more and more, each day. You might think that you use this sanely and soundly, but my warning is the you are not I, and we are not like every other person on the planet. Even if you think you post rational exchanges of a light-heated nature, not everyone will see them as such, and not everyone will respond in kind.
Unfortunately - 'first draft woes' - i can only hint at dangers unexpected... and i am lazy enough to post without edits, and without citations, and without collaborating research. If it were only I who acted so recklessly, I would not be as worried...
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