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It's only semi autobiographical

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  • Saturday, May 22, 2004

    Four cubic inches of metal and plastic, and I can speak to anyone I know, anywhere on the planet. I can reach out and touch any one of hundreds of people.

    The power is amazing, awesome in the truest sense of the word, and still taken for granted.

    Yet as I rest, lay in my bed, there is no one to talk to. For one reason or another, there is no one to turn to.

    What was that feeling? Perhaps it was loneliness. Strange, I have never felt it like that before. Perhaps... perhaps I need someone. I'll find someone to talk to tomorrow.

    For now I will go to bed. Perhaps I will sleep.

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