I don`t belong here.

In the present time.

I have dropped, through some odd channels, in this time and now I am trying to manage. And it`s not like I manage so far.

The thing that really bothers me is intimacy. There is none. I mean, I do have my own but someone else`s are constantly getting in my radius. I knowwhat to do with them when somebody brings it directly to me but what should I do, in this age of communicational wonders, when one of it just flops into my life?

Here`s the thing – I was Facing on Facebook. Just wondering around, answered few messagges, watched a video or two and right when I wanted to leave…boooooom! I read that someone from my family was just left by his „better“ half. I mean freshly left, half an hour ago. And the „better“ half who left is whinning, coursing and shitting right there, on the Face. So very…. from it.

And now what? What I am supposed to do? To call the member of the family front, asking how is she, if she needs anything? And what if she asks me how I know about it, I can`t say „I saw it on Facebook“!?! What kind of approach is this?!?

And why in the devil`s name are people publishing it? What happened with the intimacy of  intimacy? And I don`t understand what should we do with such information, to call – or not call, or to play dumb and deaf in the personal discomfort behind the screen, completly ashamed with our bare presence in such a delicate moment in someone`s life?

Fuck such a reality.

Real people in real time… Right.

Then a thought came to my mind.

It must have been wonderful.

It must have been a paradise.

It must have been truely amazing when people waited for a whole month to get some news. When a love letter was expected with sweet longing for weeks, tapping with feet every morning wating for the mailman… When bad news came with big delay and huge pauses, because no matter how many they were coming, people still had at least some time between each of them to recuperate. When people spoke about this things privately, with a possibility to give and take a simple hug. And comfort.

Back then, you knew that something was said exactly to you, not to the whole world.

Back then, only extremly urgent things have required a super fast notice with the carrier pigeon.

And you felt shitty only when that far-flyer would drop his teret on your head, not like this, when anyone can shit out it`s inward and mess himself, his near ones and the ones that really have nothing to do with it.

Without offering some Kleenex…

General bullshit, that`s what it is.

Facing the twitter…Ha!

What I will do is… Well, I will keep on doing what I did till now – if someone tells me something personally, I will react, if not – nothing.

Above me there`s an attic with few generations of pigeons. Lovely birds, by the way. They may represent peace, love…They can tweet….or shit, if it`s necessary. And they are doing it regardless of others. No hard feelings – they felt it and drop it.

Just there. Just like pigeons. Just like plain common birds. Just like millions of them who can`t see the difference between their private shithole and a public wall.

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