What Better Place Than Here

I am alone again. What better place than here, the internet, this place of millions and millions of anonymous blogs, to be truly alone. This is a unique place. It is the only place I know where you can make your private thoughts available to untold millions of people and be absolutely certain that nobody reads or understands them.

This medium is far better than shouting at clouds, or mumbling darkly to yourself in other public venues, and in a strange way, more socially acceptable.

I have had the pathetic impulse to whore this blog to family and friends, and did in fact point out my memorial to my girlfriend upstairs to several, but then the impulse died. I did that only because I know that memorials of any kind are for the living, not the dead, and that it gives us who continue to live on awhile, comfort to share our thoughts, to close ranks and fight the fight of life together in a symbolic way, like shipwreck survivors.

It is amazing to me that I can wander, vagabond that I am, down this great highway that is the internet, shouting, cursing, screaming my rage at the sky, and be still completely anonymous.

Is this blog entry a plea for some kind of company? Of course it is. Of course it is.

It is that, but at the same time it satisfies a kind of ironic impulse to immortalize myself, I suppose. The internet is a strange place. A place to be anonymously instantly immortalized forever.

Yes I am depressed. But I am not suicidal. I just think this is a great place to journalize my thoughts. To realize how incredibly juvenile my thoughts are right now. To wonder whether this kind of thinking is a product of grief, or whether I really am an aging child.