(no subject)

My world is a series of lines, my head a series of sounds, and my soul a series of moments. Whoever you are, whenever you are, I want to send you a soul in a bottle, because it is my nature. If my passion was fixing your car, curing your ills, or mending your soul, I am sure you would find me much more useful.

I think that by sending out little pieces of myself, they might settle somewhere in you, and in some way make us both just a little less lonely. To me, loneliness is a constant, because even when I am with you, I am alone inside my head.

As I write all these highfluten thoughts, Stubs the cat is over here licking what is left of his balls.

He is still my favorite little boy. I lost a daughter, most of my dignity, and my savings in the divorce.

Still, in the vacuum that was my life, a lot of things came rushing in. Stubs was one of them.

I can tell you that I have never felt so alive, like my life started after the divorce. The old life had to be excised like a tumor. The roots are still there, but fading with time.

There are times that I am angry. It comes out mostly in the internet these days. My technology connects me instantly to billions of you, the people outside of my head. It does this in a way that makes me feel more alone every time I use it.

The anger is a backlash of ideals, thoughts from the others that lurch over my ego's walls. Facebook and the television allows me to filter it all, until only my own opinion is reflected back at me. My ego sits safe and secure inside my head. You may think this is petty and small minded. You think this, because it is. But you may do the same thing, and you may not even realize it.

So I throw little bottles over the wall in hopes that they may settle past someone's filter. Maybe it can float past the labels, the bias, and settle in with understanding.

Understanding is in such short supply when it comes to the other.