Death of Personalization

Social media is great and everything, but I feel it’s totally not personal. Some of us (soon to be dead as a dodo) are quite old fashioned. I am all for tweeting at people but sometimes when you want to pass a message like a congratulation, condolence or a genuine act of sympathy. It’s so hard to do it as a tweet. At-least I find it hard to accept it.

I love writing letters always did, even when I was little and when I am unable to attend school because of sickness my parents would make me write a leave letter which they would personally deliver it to the teacher. I am pretty sure nobody does that in school now but in a way its a lot personal the teacher knows I was sick for a reason and also can keep an eye on me in the subsequent days to see if i am doing alright.

From a women’s perspective I understand why they wouldn’t want men to message them directly. I really could never understand why anyone would send a nude picture to a woman; I feel ashamed most days hearing stories about it. If you’re sending someone something, send a poem, write a genuine compliment, write how the social media sucks, write a note to them. Nudes are sexy way to communicate provided there is bilateral trust and understanding first.  I honestly never could send nudes to some stranger on social media ever because my parents raised me that well.

Like everything in life its a blurry line indeed. I am all for tweeting a lot of messages at somebody, but I’d rather prefer a quiet exchange of pleasantries in a private message. I care about my personal nature of my message to someone because its only meant for them. Another thing is also the fact that flirting is totally dead right now which is why I plan to write my erotica to discover the lost art of flirting.  I am pretty sure it might be a big flop, but I am hoping I could find those few old-fashioned souls like me who might enjoy it and feel the same way. That’s what I always strive for.

Anyhow before I lose my coherence.  I will leave you with my one of my favorite poems ever. The poem is one of the best uses of Imagery by the master Robert Frost. The poem itself like many of his works are melancholic because of the despair he endured. The way in which he uses the darkness to capture it is beautiful and painful to read.

I always love to pay a homage to my works by putting a twist on it. It shows my love for the night time mainly because this is when I no longer have to be an Team lead or an adult or a Father or a dog owner but instead be just me doing things I love. One of them happens to be writing.

I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain—and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.
I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.
I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,
But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height,
One luminary clock against the sky
Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right. 
I have been one acquainted with the night.
Until Next time !

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