morse code | treetrunkdings

It took a warning from my email system to make me realise that I had been making my life more socially complex than I had intended when I retired from working in an office environment several years ago.

Dozens of blogs I found myself following, filling my email inbox.

Hundreds of friends and family on social networking sites I found I had accumulated, creating a constantly-flowing social “news” stream.

Thousands of websites I found I was tracking.

Billions of people I found I had written about.

It took an interview with an author on the der spiegel website to make me realise that seeking social connections is one of the aspects of being a member of our species.

Instead of simplifying my life, I have jumped right back in to social connections, albeit mostly virtual ones.

Back to simplifying my thought sets so I can return to contemplating the vast universe of which we are a tiny part that we rarely see through the cloud of socialising that normally defines us.

To the dozens of fellow blog writers and hundreds of social network friends, I thank you for your hospitality and kindness. However, I bow gracefully and exit from your lives.

I have other pursuits, none as important as friends and family, but ones I want to look for, nonetheless.

I had used this blog as a means of safely storing my written thoughts. However, with my smartphone I have a new means of storing my thoughts without having to put them out here for everyone to read, allowing me to explore thought patterns I have kept to myself in order to avoid offending any of my friends and family who might see themselves in this continuous satirical viewpoint through a serial book of parallel lives.

Have, have, have…there I go again, sending Morse code to the universe!

This blog has come to an end.

In the past few weeks, I have returned to the joy of reading the local newspaper, a major source of information in my youth.

I have also sat and analysed the relationship between my father and myself, my mother and myself, and my father and my mother.

The last two sentences have given me pauses not associated with writing an app that makes Morse Code fun, exciting and optimally efficient as a modernised means of communicating.

But I digress.

No, take that back.

I regress.

I sit in front of the glowing, pixelated dots of energy one tends to call a computer monitor, although I’m not really monitoring the computer as much as I’m using its interface between myself and the wide world of webs we’ve developed as an extension of our natural need for nurturing. [Is the computer monitoring me, then?]

That is (i.e.), for example (e.g.), ergo, ipso facto, our permanent pacifiers (as opposed to Pacific pacifists) we’ve adopted as our own.

Computers of the desktop or laptop kind.

Mobile phones.

Tablet PCs/phones.

The 21st Century version of the security blanket.

WAAAAAAAHHH!!! Mommy, I can’t update my social media status!!!!

Who would’ve thunk it when we were two-year olds shouting, “No! No! No!,” that our two-year olds would be wailing for their touchscreen devices instead of plastic nipples to stick in their mouths?

Indeed.

My father values a toboggan like I value writing blog entries.

My mother hovers over my father like a nervous first-time parent.

Together, the last two sentences tell me a lot about myself and my only sibling, a younger sister.

I want to call 9-1-1 and make up some crazy tall tale in order to get my entry in the local newspaper column, the Police Blotter (which, of course, many local kids are calling the Po’ Sleaze Blighter), our own version of News of the Weird, which means we don’t have to syndicate the one which its author, Chuck Shepherd, has apparently grown tired of writing.

Well, well, well…time to go be nice to people in my hometown.

treetrunkdings

All about you, me, us, as usual.

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Fears and Retreads