IM – Instant Messenger Yeah

IM – Instant Messenger Yeah i’m thinking about it. It’s been my saving grace, here an ocean (and sometimes more) away from the folks dear to me. It’s a place we can chat about the serious or the mundane, with no phone bills, no immediate sense of concentration. No sense of urgency in the voice on the other end. All modicons and ellipses. It works a lot, and sometimes not at all.

Sometimes you look at the chat window and see it for what it is, a lot of pixels rendered into what you recognize as letters on an expensive device with a bunch of cords coming out from all ends in a display of messiness that means, well, not so much. You know when the window closes, when the hard drive stops spinning, that you get to touch the silence of your little apartment. The thought that whoever saw you through that little window is gone, attending to the needs of his life, makes its way into your own thoughts. And you push that away, and think about the needs of your own life, as if to compensate somehow. As if to compensate for the true true fact that a human presence actually really means something.

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