the internet is absolutely packed
with everything
with hatred and inspiration and foolishness and memes
and i saw
once
a piece of advice that said
[approximately]
<>
and i think about that
from time to time
because we never know what we’ll end up being
to someone else
and, though i can’t imagine my writing
being someone’s absolute favorite, i can see it
impacting
in a way i didn’t imagine
and for that reason
i suppose
i’ll keep going.
wary of the way people treat others
i sneak through the internet
creeping on conversations
reading and sometimes reacting
but never
ever
ever
replying
[that’s far too frightening]
but i’m still there[/here]
in the world wide web
day and night
[less so lately
but still
sometimes]
[perhaps even oftentimes]
waiting for the moment when i
might be called upon
to say something
important
something meaningful
something
loud
[but would i take that baton
or immediately hand it off
to someone who i know
is more comfortable
with conflict
and internet yelling
than my own self?]
i suppose i’ll just have to
dodge and wind my way around
until it comes to that day
and perhaps
sneak away
then
too
what actually was the noise
that connected us to the internet
in the early/mid nineties?
was it the future screaming at us
to maybe think better of it?
was it our computers
being used for something they hadn’t thought
they’d be used for
and that stretch and strain on the inner workings
just needed to exhale a little
in a digital-type-sound?
or was it simply a pre-made set of
futuristic sounds
composed for our
soon-to-be
post-apocalyptic
future?
[i suppose i could ask kip
and they may know…]
[but i don’t think i’m going to ask right now…
maybe in a few minutes — i’m still trying to think of
other possibilities it could have meant]
Hey Void,
How are you?
I’m sorry i’ve assumed
i’d need to scream into/at you
in order to make my way
on the internet/
to stake my claim/
to have some sort of opinion/writing/something
out there…
But if i could get to know you
maybe i wouldn’t feel so self-conscious
about the futility
of all this writing,
maybe my poems
could all be love letters
to The Void.
That is,
if you’ll have me
if you’ll accept my love
(because i wouldn’t want to
do anything
without consent)
Love(?),
HJ
~~~
My Dearest Void,
Working under the assumption
that you’ll accept my letters
(you needn’t accept my love,
not yet),
i’d like to let you know
that being a human
is pretty hard sometimes.
How is it being
The Void?
Do people get upset at you,
like i once did?
Or are people learning
to trust in you,
to speak gently,
to respect you
and your ways
fully?
Hope to hear back from you
soon,
HJ
~~~
Hi Again, Void
Just wanted to say hello.
That’s all.
Nothing expected.
Nothing to be returned/reciprocated.
Just a hello/
a greeting
to you,
My/The
Void
~HJ
more driving
more music
more memories
more food
more family
[more time?]
(((…less internet)))
opening up my heart
little by little
to these strangers on the internet
[what have i/will i have
done?]
writing
posting
editing
sharing
there is a different me that comes out
whenever i start to edit and actually do things
(but, again, is that the real me?
is there only one true real me?
are all these hjs part of the one true hj?)
and that’s why i get so freaked out
with the internet and social media
because it only really allows for one of you,
when truly
everyone is made up of so much:
their thoughts and feelings
their past and memories
their response to trauma
their response to non-trauma
any mental illness(es) they may (or may not) have
their likes
and loves
and dislikes
and hates
the people who raised them
the people they raised
the people surrounding them
the people they’ve stopped attaching themselves to
their schooling
their education
(because those are two separate things)
their hobbies and interests
the things they do when they’re bored
the dreams and hopes and aspirations
and even as i list these things
even if i were able to list all the things i could think up
in words and analogies and metaphors and phrases
it still wouldn’t be enough
because,
though i do love to complain about them,
humans are beautiful and complex creatures,
and they can never be summed up
in words;
the ineffable beings,
the infinity of selves,
they (we) all hold inside.
kipventures 