the world of bits, bytes and peas

I always forget that I still have a sketchy presence on "facebook" until that very moment when somebody knocks at my "wall". Then I am startled for a few seconds, click on the link and surrender.
It is both fabulous and also scary what human relations come up with these days; pixels on the screen and bits and bytes for the most. The perfect illusion for the diet of anorexic souls.
Here are two excerpts of my own examples. One in response to a surprise visit on that "facebook" today, the other a chunk of a plain old e-mail I responded to:

"...anyhow, you look pleasantly beautiful on the pics you posted on facebook, but my demented mind is not able to place you into the memory slot needed to illuminate your actual being in context.
In other words, who the heck are you?
Take all the apologies you possibly can and push them forward in a wheelbarrow, take them from me since I can not recognize you instantly. That will have to do for now.
So, who are you then for real?
You must help.
Please!!!!
No, I don't particular care for facebook - though it does amaze me who and what comes popping up at times...no punch intended.
I hate the surveys, they make a lame conversation; I hate the commercials and overcrowded options (blogger doesn't have any of this, so I guess you have to create posts without the help of "events", "fun walls", "super walls" and the like...)
OK, I bitched enough. Please fill in the blanks at your leisure."

.............................................................................


"... just take this then - I still have your tattoo engraved in my heart, unless you cut it out, it will stay there forever...and once in a while I wake up, don't worry - it's only once in a while. Then I see you quite clear, crisp as the inners of a freshly cracked walnut. Delightful. Of course when the day goes on, or the following days go by - all fades again into a blur.
But what I really wish to say I guess, is that I still care for you tremendously. So all your joy and sorrows, your ecstasy and pain, your hopes and dreams, your thoughts and passions ... all of those things still mean something to me, even though I am removed, half away around the globe."
.............................................................................

A tremendous amount of emotions - pleasure, pain, joy suffering and bullshit on the internet is posted each second of each day. But where can it be found, where does it go to, is it actually for "real"? Is such substance saved when my computer crashes or does it simply evaporate into thin air? What happens at a power outage, or even worse - how are we going to communicate when all oil and power runs out for good?

There once lived a decent initiate who said:
"If humans would have not invented the telephone and hence become completely dependent to this gadget, they would have instead grown inner faculties, replacing this primitive mechanical tool and communicate without hardware throughout space and time."
Somehow this "rings a bell" even though we have disassociated our mental (telepathic) capabilities, put them into dormant slumber.
The "web" has arisen to be the source of liberation ... on one hand. On the other, it suffocates and strangles true human emotions and virtues - and it has evolved to be the only crutch we didn't even asked for. Our dependency to this "machine" (computer and net) is close to birthing bad alive copies of virtual mechanical intelligence found in hard and software, with the difference of having to maintain eroding physical bodies - inferior, that is us, with "ERROR" written all over the forehead.
One of these victims is me.
Happy weekend though, and plant something for real, something like peas!
We'll eventually show who is stronger - me or the machine!