Surprisingly, I’ve been doing quite well in New York, away from Sophia. We’re still talking on the phone, exchanging stories of the day. But not every day. I have no idea what she has been up to this month.
A few weeks ago, I called Sophia with an odd request — change my Twitter password so I wouldn’t be able to get on and waste so much time, chatting for hours about nonsense such as the correct pronunciation of “gyro.” It was time to do some real honest WRITING.
I cheated. I fought the law, and I won. I discovered that the Twitter app Brizzly uses a separate password, so I was able to beat the system the entire time, continuing to trade barbs with Redneck Mommy.
During the last few days, there was some internet drama going on involving other parties (when isn’t there?) and it made me feel a little sad and depressed that my mind was being polluted with this information. I decided it was time to try my detox again. So, I deleted Brizzley, making me sans Twitter. I became a free man.
The first day it was a relief. Who needs to hear all these voices talking at me?
Today is day two. And I’m ready to be chained to my computer again. Without these virtual “others” around — I’m finally feel the loneliness and isolation of, well, being alone. The voices of Twitter were protecting me, distracting me from feeling. I’m still doing OK — I’m glad that I am here — and it is better for Sophia, too — but I’m feeling it for the first time.
But I picked the right person to change my password. There is no way I could ever convince her to change her mind.
In all honesty, I’m an only child, and comfortable being by myself, alone with my words, probably even more than most of you. But like they say in the Bible, “Man is not good until woman hands him an apple.” (my translation) And your mother doesn’t count as this woman. And I’m not talking about “that” apple either, a real apple. You know, not the real shiny apple with names like Delicious or Fuji Apple. You get what I’m saying?