Take My Hand ....

Habituated to the razor's edge of neurosis
we are a species that has become compulsively
addicted to the comforting presence of an
aura of security blanketing our thoughts and
motivating us to fixate on a small and exceedingly
powerful technology enabling contact with the
world at large in places where we will never
venture yet place our interests in stumbling
upon others equally dedicated to fulfilling
their destinies as herd animals led to the
trough of data consumption and social media
expressions finding within the consolation
of existence unavailable through the physical
presence of others like ourselves who spurn
with the horror of contamination intimacies
of contact and communication. Reality becomes
an intrusion, and we live our lives remotely in
dialogues through the empathetic intervention
of those like ourselves endlessly searching for
the reassurances of companionship that life itself
denies us, offering instead the fiction of finding
ourselves through electronic messaging; a means
reminiscent of protracted sleep where dreams
replace the predictable tedium of a life lived.