The "Au Revoir Facebook" Experiment

I'm at that place.
The one between too connected and out of touch.

And so, an experiment...life without "social networking."

In one week, I'm heading back to the Dark Ages of stationary and pens, telephone calls, and email.
I've enjoyed how easy FB made it to spy on those people that ordinarily, I would know next to nothing about. It's been neat, meeting new folks, and getting to know acquaintances a little better.

But I've noticed, that no matter how many times we may "comment" on the same thing, or "like" the same thing, when we meet face to face, we're unsure of how to proceed. We don't know where we stand with one another, because online intimacy makes for awkward social situations.
FB and the sites like it, MySpace, Twitter, even blogs - all explore (while some exploit) the innate human need to be known.

I believe that I would rather know a few people intimately, than many people only barely.

So I'm betting that I can fill my life with things more meaningful, when I give up trying to sum up a moment, feeling, or event into a one-line status.
I've come to a place where I see our connections dwindling, as we become increasingly more connected.
Privacy has become passe.

I hypothesize that when I delete my account, the people that want to get to know me better will call, or email.
I further theorize that I too, will seek out those people that resonate with me. I will have to reach out to touch someone, instead of logging on...

Relationships will be more meaningful for the special effort of contact on both parts. Shared photos will be more appreciated, because I will not be inundated with them, nor will I inundate others with them. Pithy comments will be funnier, because when I think of one, I'll pick up the phone to share it with you.
I miss the warmth of human voices, directed to me and not the universe of the people you know.


The sending and receiving letters is a dying art form. There's something about knowing that someone sat down, thought of you, and put pen to paper in honor of a conversation with you.

I happily bet that this experiment is going to be a resounding success.

Feel free to email, spy on my blog (I know, I know...that one's next), call, or better yet,

write me a letter.


Laura K. Moore

Even So, She Hates me

 once, guy, sick, parade, television, landlord, moonbeam, success, anatomy, kicking, real, pilgrim 

you thought once, mother

that i'd end up with some French guy.

you'd be sick in the States, and i'd be overseas, happily ignorant.

you thought i'd throw a parade to be free from you - and i did, in my own way.

he and i, we'd have no television, just books
and no landlord, just a cottage we'd fix up

we'd collect moonbeams, planting them in our garden.

we would celebrate our success without you, the sky would be the limit

we'd discuss anatomy and other taboo topics, 

after he'd felt the bebe kicking

but not to be. not to be. for this is what's real:

your daughter is neither pilgrim nor prodigal, but every bit as disappointing.

i Am Weary, Let me Rest

rest, awhile, simple, accomplishment, forever, idiot, nemesis, shadenfreude, stupidly, sense, past, together

 

to have sweet rest!

to lounge awhile, 

reveling in the simplest breath,

the lack of accomplishment

instead, we grind away forever

Human tool! Dolt, and idiot!

Your understanding is your nemesis!

You cling to your shadenfreude- like Lenny,
stupidly clinging to his dead mouse

Where is your sense?

Your past will continue to replay, as a grainy and silent film

for you labor alone, when

another could share your burden, and then you rest, together.

Socialisme Glorieux!

 
schadenfreude caligula arcipelago gulag heads together ruefully looks otis charm lost snuffing

To the dark and vainglorious days of democracy!

schadenfreude most requisite
for Caligula's prosperity
in the taking of land and sea, arcipelago and plain
the Gulag, too, lovingly represses, its long arms reaching
Come on lads, heads down, mediocrity awaits!
join together, noses to grindstones
neither ruefully nor with sadness
for a pillar of sweat and salt, will be the man with backward looks.
our comrade Otis leads the way,
and charm is neither sold or spared
in the snuffing of individuality

 

 

 

 

Envie d'Ailes

i stood on a CLIFF 

yesterday

and wished with all of my heart

for WINGS  

 

Remembered, Hawaii

i remembered this morning,
cracking open beers
for heavy Samoan body guards
and arranging poi on a platter
while they razzed me like a little sister
for looking so Hawaiian
and being so Southern.

Deja Vu, Again

 

write this down,
she told me.


i will,
i whispered.


but i did not.
i thought i would remember-
thought i could carry the words
in my heart
back into my waking

but i forgot them.
as soon as they were out of her mouth,
i forgot them.



so i left them suspended there
in my dream, 
those very important words
hanging 
like paper cranes

if i could sleep that dream again
i would pay closer attention
i would capture those words
like fireflies in a jar

Still Looking

strange

to feel a longing

for a place one has never been

to yearn for 

the chilly spray of the sea

on my face

ears keen 

for the angry crashing of waves 

breaking over dark shingle below

to pull tighter my knit sweater

around hunched shoulders

i have the need

to stand on the rolling heath

of a rocky crag

wild, foreign wind 

tossing my hair

where are you?

The Early Birdie

dawn breaks, grey and still

the sky fades from inky black

to violet to lavender: 

a divine gradient

no brush could capture

crystalline drops of water

hang suspended from green leaves

mist rolls over the mountain

the sun rises languidly

like the steam from my teacup