Teleportation

I promised I'd write this blog for someone. I do keep my promises.

The movie Sleepless in Seattle made such an impact on audiences and their romantic dealings. I never understood it, even if I watched it full length. That was embarassing for me, because I would have been able to catch up on movies like that. Until now.

I suddenly realize that the magic the movie was trying to tell a story of, was the fact that people can become connected, and no geographical, demographic, cultural, or even relational boundaries can get in the way. It's like for two people, you somehow reach a pinnacle, like the Empire State building, and the doors of the elevator just open, and all you can say is, "Hi."

I was chatting with you the other day and I had no idea who you are, how you sound like, what you like eating, and why you wear your hair like that (I did see your picture). Electronic impulses send my words to your terminal, and so do yours. I was reading, but at the back of my head I was trying to read between the lines. "Is she bored?" "Did I say something stupid?" "Was she offended by that?"

Your friend, who was beside me for the meantime, told me that you wanted me to talk first. Unfortunately, I can't talk, not to you for that matter, without knowing what it is that you'd like to hear (or read about). Sleepless in Seattle just flat-out lied about the connection.

But then there's this. You said my posts were kind of long. I told you they were more than thoughts. They were angst. Or at least what I know them to be. And I just opened my head and told you truths that everybody else may think is nonsense. You decide that.

I might sign up for that site you were asking me about. The possibilities are endless. And so are days, that I heard, may be as short as our lives. I'm thinking about it. Still thinking.