i am the screaming voice of the changing times, my nightmares and dreams flooding your inbox. what used to be mix tapes and hacked broadcasts have become digital poetry; face to face conversations carried out over tweets and status updates; bathroom stall graffiti written on facebook walls. living in a virtual reality where anything and every thought is acceptable and endlessly profound, where imagination is limited to 140 characters and tweet speak is the patois of a new generation. pepsi ain't got nothin on this bitch... just inject the caffeine straight into my veins - heroin for the social network junkie. add a few more hours on my bedtime til i get that one last sleeping thought typed out and dream of all the little red numbers popping upto tell me someone thought enough to comment, that my words affected you and yours or touched your soul or stirred your heart, that i made you think until your brain imploded, that i made you cry or laugh or (fake) lol.
cold hard words, the only voice for someone so hampered by their own damn shyness. i can hardly speak in real life for fear of how you look - your eyes as i mouth the words, force sound between barely parted lips, studying me as i try to make these senseless thoughts logical or simply get my point out and across the court to you. its your ball now. please don't take it and go home. that isn't how this game is played. i'm no expert (trust me) but i'm pretty sure some witty banter is involved.
i'm just not that witty in person when i see your face and can read your reaction or hear the disappointment in your voice. impersonal text is so much easier, lets me go on thinking that i'm everything you expected me to be and so much more. lets me get these thoughts over and out to you where they belong instead of floating, mired in my pregnant mind, waiting til i can get home and put pen to paper, fingers to keys, til i can form the sentences and phrases that edged my lips all night, til i can finally tell you what i wanted you to hear because you're nowhere near my sight.
You've pretty much described it perfectly. I do the same thing sometimes; wait and see if I actually did touch a nerve or if my rants/raves has gone unheard.
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