Technology Hurts too.

8 Feb


I wonder about the days pre TV, pre radio..when whores lived in places with no hot water and only candle light.

They wouldn’t have retreated to their rooms to go chat on a cell phone or hit somebody up on facebook. Nope, they would have made friends with each other to keep from going insane.

I’ve found since I’ve been here last…since we got wireless internet…something has changed. The friendship…the group hanging out…it’s not happening as much. We’re all just kicking it in our rooms using our laptops and its making me feel increasingly isolated.

I used to come here to not feel so isolated.
Now I have almost as much solitude as I get at home.
I should honestly be watching more shit on TV.
Instead…I’m now the voyeur…peering into other people’s lives watching what is going on in their world via facebook…twitter…feeling like I’m missing out on the world.

Its really one of the best ways to put yourself in a shitty mood, unless you’re happy to see your friends having fun without you (this happens sometimes) and you feel like you can join in from afar.

Of course if you know the art world then you know that half of people “choosing you”, putting you first, putting you in their art gallery…thinking of you first for the charity auction….it all has to do with (socially) how much you’re in their face.

But then you wonder…how much is too much? Can you really ride somebody’s ass too much? Is it POSSIBLE to be too “out there” if you want to be in the forefront of the art industry, if you want to be that person everybody thinks of first?

Is it possible that some of the allure of the artist is lost by making oneself too available?

Can power actually be increased by reducing one’s communication, and making yourself more mysterious?

Would a shift ever take place, of quality over quantity?
Instead of having to remain constantly out there…
could more be accomplished by a thoughtful letter…or well composed photos with friends?

When do the doors ever close?
When do the machines get turned off?
When do humans get real face time?

When do I, the far away person, start to feel like technology is not my barrier to real life relationships?

When do I get my one phone call?
What is this, jail?

When do I get a love letter?
When will someone care enough to compose their thoughts and feelings into something more than a sentence…just because?

Why can’t somebody give me a mix CD – just like the first boy I liked did when I was 12?
Why does a guy have to send me something via yousendit.com?

When do I get to hold a real hand and know its someone else’s world shared with my world, instead of two worlds completely divided?
Ever?
Never?

YES, these are the things I ponder in an empty brothel at two am.

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