Twisted Deviant

Is it the silence that stretches as we fumble for the right words trying to connect on some level with spoken articulation when it has always been the medium of the computer between us? Is it the harsh glare of reality the knowledge that we face one another without the comfort of a metallic screen and whirling processors to soften the light? Has our desire to reach out to be more than just single entities alone in the dark with our strange obsessions actually created the very thing we were desperately trying to avoid? When did we become neo drones catering to the digitized queen plodding along in our solitary confinement in a place where human touch has become the anathema rather than the desired result? How did we go from light and laughter to the fluttering fingers caressing the letters of our absolution each stroke of the keys our homage to technology as our skin forgets the touch of kindness? When did our closest confidants become the separated masses tucked in inaccessible corner