I’m walking to the subway right now. It’s 7:13, sprinkling lightly. I can see little rainbow-colored droplets on my screen. I know my route by heart, just like I know the iPhone keyboard, so I’ve started taking my hour-long commute as time to write first thing in the morning, when my imagination works the best.
Isn’t that insane?
So much of my life takes place online that I’ve lost touch with the boundaries. I no longer know where my obligations lie, with my “real” life or my “virtual” life. What’s real and what’s virtual? Is someone only real to you if you can smell them? Or are the realest people the ones you can relate to the most - no matter where they're located?
If these questions bore you, I beg you to listen a little bit longer with an open mind. If nothing else, try to see this as a cautionary tale about what happens if you plug your spinal column into the Internet before either the Internet or your nervous system is ready.