Moving On

I DON'T GET MUCH EMAIL these days, although I used to. I outran spam, so far, and my friends? I may have finally succeeded in alienating them enough to drive them off, with the exception of the occasional howdy how are ya? My is the perception on my part of self absorption on their part. We all have personal interests. These we invariably closely associate with ourselves, and seek to share with others, especially our friends, a perfectly normal urge. Interests vary, from job and family, to extraterrestrial contacts, the Galactic Federation, or a budding career as a guitar strumming singer song writer. It can be anything. Whatever it may be, by all means, share. But how much sharing can a single poor sucker of a recipient absorb? And how long must said recipient wait for some trace of variety, something outside the sacred realm, some hint or trace of alternative interest? In all honesty, I cannot recall the last time one of my forty year friends expressed the slightest curiosity about me and my mundane daily life and activities. And I don't expect much. I'm low maintenance. But when your dear friends from the class of seventy three have no idea whether or where you work, even after years of sustained email exchanges, whether you have children and if so who they are, you begin to feel a bit neglected. I think I've been more than accommodating. How many reports from alpha Centauri can one read in a single sitting? Sure, buddy, I would love to download your most recent demo song, you, your fine voice, acoustic, and harmonica. Send it now, by all means! I feel as if I've spent the entire internet age in a state of acquiescent accommodation, receiving, accepting, profusely thanking and feigning interest. Over time, one starts to fade. One grows weary, sated. So I try to change the subject, to inject new life, but invariably, to no avail. The conversation goes right back to where it was, and has been, for years. All my comments and inquiries into forbidden areas are summarily dismissed or ignored. My friend who so loves extraterrestrial diplomacy simply will not talk about his career, whatever is is. My soon to be musical superstar never mentions his children, if he has any, nor mine, if I have any. Any comment I might make about my life or interests, as by now you might have guessed, is dismissed, ignored. Finally, I've had enough. Here's my plan. I shall email nobody. Whatever I might receive, I shall fail utterly to grace with comment or any sort of response. I shall instead provide a detailed description of my mundane daily life, my deepest thoughts, aspirations, and interests, to the exclusion of all else. that should do the trick. I shall, in a nutshell, bore them into submission. I fully expect, within a short time, to open my email box, and find it delightfully, refreshingly empty.--------------PLEASE SHARE THIS WEBSITE WITH OTHERS, TO AID FREE EXPRESSION AND CREATIVITY.THANKS!