Abbie Wasserman

Here I am.
I am not alone.
I sit here.
With my computer
Tip tap typing.
And with the bars:
One. Two. Three.
I am connected..
I have all my friends.
All of my music.
All of the data I wish to inhale day in and day out.
My soul is silent.
Yearning to be free.
My voice is nowhere to be heard
Only on the tips on my fingers does my voice seep through
Expelling love and hate and emotion
Human interaction and laughter and tears.
My fingers create my essence…
Oh but how they wish to dig into the mud of the earth
The waters of the sea and the grass, so green that
One can almost paint with the very sight of the lush blades
Free from the technology that binds me
Oh, but how my smile wishes to meet the eyes of another
To exchange hearty laughs and comfort the hearts of sorrow
To reveal life lived through different bodies of experience
A life not lived in the intangible airways of technology.
I am bound
To my loneliness
Which is hidden from my soul
Hidden…until it is too late.
Here I am.
Let me out.
Set me free.
One. Two. Three.
There’s a real world out there, waiting.
For the human

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