the drossfurnace

i dont know.  sometimes i get fed up with the concept of letters and words and dust-ridden, emotionless space and i'd so much rather just hang out with people and get to know who they are and where they've been and what the inflection sounds like in their voice when they're angry or sad or hurt or happy or had enough.  but instead, i drink coffee in my office and stare at a screen that stares my own face back at me if i look at it right, and as i infer with the ghost of my own mouth what you must be saying underneath my reflection i get fed up because i can only hear my own voice reading your words and not hear what YOUR mouth sounds like speaking the overflow of your own heart.  And while you - or anyone else on the other side of the glass - are free and tangible yet still surreal to me in your own technicolor fancy, I'm sitting here seeing sallow through monitor glass glasses while I in turn turn real life people into paper friends and keep them on my webpage.