Can you hear me?

So I haven't kept up with this blog, largely in part of urgency or commitment. When we start these things, internet objects I mean, we give it our full intention. We contemplate it: should I start a blog, should I join Facebook or Goodreads? We give it thought and then you plow right into them without sometimes giving them the consideration that once we start them we are giving life to an object that exists in the virtual world. We hope that once our internet objects are given birth they can mature into full grown objects filled with life, love and thoughts. They may even cross-over in reality itself when others read them and take them as part of their own thoughts and lives.

But alas, these aren't the considerations we give to our blogs or sites that we create. The one time I adopted two cats from the Northshore Animal League they were sure to tell me that adopting a cat is a 15 or more year commitment. Since everything last forever on the internet shouldn't we give consideration to what we are giving birth too?

There is a graveyard of dead websites and blogs out in the internet world. Sometimes I wonder whether the people behind these websites have died themselves or maybe just a part of them died with it. Maybe its more emblematic of our thought processes and how they can enter our mind and leave it within a split second or a couple of days.

In the end, maybe these eruptions of language are sighs of truth that people need to be heard by others or mostly by him or herself to verify that they exist. Virtual reality is reality in the composition of modern day life now and if you can't be Googled maybe you haven't lived.

Of course this is all rumination . . . a digression. Most people don't live on the internet. Millions don't even have a computer. And if they do, they don't blog per se . . .they may exist now on Facebook within circles of friends and colleagues. Do they hear the whispers or the falling of the trees?

There seems to be a gap between the living and the dead in the virtual world, passed through electrifying fiber-optic nerve highways were inevitable crashes occur and dissolve into the night.