|Too Much Silence
||[Mar. 4th, 2008|04:57 am]
Kelly J. Cooper
I am here to argue that the incurious can live forever.
And yet, they don't.
Unfortunately, the proof cannot fit in this blog post.
(That was much funnier when I told you all that in my head.)
Now that I use this blog thingy, I talk to all of you – commenters, silent readers, passers-by, occasional check-in types – as though you were the Greek chorus in my mind.
Honestly, talking to the jury box of people telling me I'm doing it wrong was getting old anyway. But still, it's... odd. It feels strange. You are an entity, with wildly varied humors. When I don't talk to you outside of my head for a while, I get lonely. It's a different type of lonely from talking to specific people. It's more of a lack of recognition, of affirmation that I belong to something larger than me, as much as I tend to reject specific identification with particular groups as too painful, too reminiscent of bad clique stuff in my past.