Back In Time(like Parker)

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Once our dreams had wings, we had hopes and desires,
there were real possibilites of love and happiness. We had
a chance for something real.

Now, there are the invisible and unreal, unpredictable and
fabricated spirits of the internet. Impossible entities we
found out later we later we never knew at all, identities
interchangeable and forever enigmatic, comfortable in
their non-reality, collective poltergeists or phantasms
with a hundred inconstant personalities, scared as hell
of even themselves, exclusively forever needed
to be anonymous.

She was terrified to let anyone know she lived on the US
continent, terrified that a new person could enter her life. Not
knowing his whole complete dossier, so hell with that. Not
able to attain the entire record and private documents of a
He, she dug deeper into her own trench, making sure to be
oblivious, no name, no number, a stranger to all. What kind
of ice cream she liked, if she had lamps, if there was wind or
rain in the secret area of her non-ancestral existence.

Not the right man..what kind? who knows. Like a card game
where she knows every card every other person holds, while
her own hand requires a special lens even she needs to see.

Once a guy could MEET a girl, after hideous Frankestein and
the vampire Dracula had already become legend. Some deviltry
by the anarchistic and aggressive Joe or Bob might discover
that she is living within 1200 miles and you we/he/I/you are
The Opposite Sex, possibly desirable, and ready to mate.
If he just knows the special invocations found at Men's Public
Knowledge Site. He has to be a member, and be in a carefully
selected tribe. Finally, the only probable way to somehow meet even
this frankly bewitching harpy is to join at least 19 dating/hookup/
sex-at-once sites, then a man knows the babble, that incorrigible
babble. While waiting for the impossible, as his credit is corrupted.

A DATE(if there is enough cash to get an in-call with a young escort)

and the appointment is made with a woman who can become his for
a never-minding ephemeral time, or change into a new identitiy
on the calculated confusion of the web. So forget internet dating,
unless self-punishment is your will.

Good luck, I say. I'd settle for a scary night club any night. With
some person who is more ready than I for a real meeting.

..

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3 Comments
tazz317tazz317almost 12 years ago
FETISHES AND PHOBIAS

cant differ from pEotry and pOrse. TK U MLJ LV NV not a typo

KobaKobaalmost 13 years ago

There is not a single syllable of poetry here.

twelveoonetwelveoonealmost 13 years ago
Interesting musing

I question as to why you think it is poetry, or even an essay, since it ends on a irresolution. I did note vote, because I don't know how to react to this.

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