I wonder, Kitty, if the internet preys on our fears or our loneliness. In this vice of self actualization in which nothing is ever enough. Nothing is real.

And as we try to become enlightened with supportive Instagram worthy partners, we become less us and more nothing. Then soon without realizing it, no one is capable of interacting with a non entity that does not even exist in the imagination of its creator.

All in the name of pleasing an audience that is not even there disappearing in the rain.

I know, we can’t touch our realities, we may die if we do.

I hope you are doing ok, Kitty.

It just amazes me how we are all so lonely yet so afraid of one another all in the name of protecting the illusion of an alter ego. Yes I know, I too want to be a poet, avant-garde, brake rules and the bank.

Yet I am fully aware of the dangers of touching. Our bodies and our pain. The pus laying under our skin. Yet. Who am I to talk about things I know nothing about?

Thank you for writing, Kitty. Often we don’t even touch one another not even with words. May the sun warm our bodies in some balcony in some street as we linger in our sleep.

Take care. Thank you for stopping by.

Pablo