Relationships in cyberspace

I felt somewhat frustraited tonight about communicating on the grand ole WWW. My mind was exploring both communication and the relationships that result. I write a lot of notes like this to myself and I thought, "What the hell, post it."

I'd like to hear some other opinions concerning web relationships.

CYBER FRIENDS AND BOILED CHICKEN

I write this with thoughts of the possibility that it may well offend. Only thoughts not fear. For a good number of years I have conversed with a good number of people over the great cyber friend?s network. I have gotten to know many by their words alone and have some feel as to what they like and dislike and what sorts of thoughts they may entertain and, to some extent, what provides enjoyment in their lives. To some end, this has brought me a great deal of enjoyment. It does have its shortcomings.

I am a person who has grown up and, to some extent, fashioned my relationships in a visual world. I didn?t really grow up as a child; it was more a period of survival. Without parental guidance I was self-taught. I observed my environment and responded to those things I observed. I was the street urchin. I watched and worked people. I knew their desires because I saw them in their eyes and actions. From a good distance away, I could predict, with reasonable accuracy, the intentions or mood of an approaching person. When I spoke, I could perceive the slightest twinge of displeasure in the person to whom I was talking and immediately compensate by nudging the conversation in a different direction or by simply altering my tone of voice to suit their response. Little escaped my eyes and my responses were immediate and immaculate. To that extent, I was dangerous. Not only did I know how to please, I could see in an instant where to drive the dagger should I spot a soft point of weakness. Always, I watched the eyes and movements of others. I was not a social serpent lying in wait for some unwary soul. No, I was a child who sought to please. I was a child who understood quite well that if others were smiling it would be difficult for them to admonish me with any great wrath or harm. I knew because I say. My eyes were my salvation.

I am much older now, yet I still observe people. I watch them as they eat in restaurants, as they interact with their children, as they struggle for power in business meetings and any other venue that is offered me. My ability to see has served me well as an adolescent psychologist, as a treatment manager in a juvenile detention facility and as a senior manager. Seldom have I dealt with personal issues over the telephone. Seldom, if ever, did I write a memo that addressed any personnel issue. I detest phones. They restrict my vision. I only see honesty in a persons eyes and posture. I only communicate well through pairing my words with expressions and the laughter or hostility seen in my eyes. During rare, occasional phone calls from my father he said he loved me and that he would come to see me. He never did. Had I seen his eyes, I would have known better.

Tonight I felt one of those lost moments. jjorge wrote a simple but beautiful piece on the Original Writing forum. I was really touched by its? simplicity and depth. I told him how much I enjoyed it yet, my words felt empty and deficient. It felt flat like the taste of overcooked boiled chicken. And herein lies the thought of this piece. I try very hard to develop some deeper relationships with many of the people I chat with online. I try to discern their true emotions, the depths of their feelings and all the other qualities that accompany relationships with others. In most instances I fail. It is not a situation in which I feel no bonding or kinship, it simply lacks the attributes that have sustained me for so long; touch and vision. There have been pronouncements of the passing of members of the Abuzz community and there was nothing in my fingers that could address the intense remorse I felt at those moments. There have been moments of achievement and obstacles that have been overcome and J has been such a limp expression of the joy I felt or reflection of the smile on my face. At the same time I must admit to moments of dishonesty. Not in an untruth being told but in the omission of not saying what I wanted to say or needed to be said. Honest yet unpleasant things need to be said without the limitation of time barriers to response and the support of a calm tone of voice.

And so, there is some level of in borne hatred of this medium that I bear. A certain level of distrust and a subtle imposition of hesitancy that I feel. But, despite these thoughts, I continue to converse. I continue to think and feel openly and in written form. Because, in the end, even stilted intercourse among companions staves off the loneliness of a singular existence.

Think this is the link to jjorge?s piece. (hope that's right)

Original Writing