Are words merely words on a page, or are they snippets of a hidden soul that have somehow escaped to grant a preview to the uninitiated of the intangibles that lie beneath the surface? Perhaps, words in reality bear no extant connection to the mind that inspired the hand that bore the pen that crafted them and are devoid of a life of their own; only sketching a reality that is at best virtual and concocted.
Pray tell me where the line between the real and the virtual blur.. Or are we inexorably drawn to the nostalgia of dreams yet chastised by the harshness of reality, whilst pining for a nascent hope, which perhaps we never get? Is it even possible to infer quickness of mind, sharpness of spirit, cuteness, razzness or some other quirk of behavior from words on a
Sadly I have been e-seduced by words on a
page screen! And the virtual and the real have blurred into one!