I’ve been pretty successful at resuming my normal real life. My twitter dashboard still occasionally calls out to me, so I open the internet and check my numbers, and read some news and stories that are of interest to me.
It still irritates me when I see that the puppet master has fiddled with my numbers, adding or subtracting where no one else should have access. However, I have learned to shrug off this annoyance, and entertain the possibility that this puppet master might have my best interest at heart. The numbers are no longer strings to which I’m attached. They do affect who comes into my twitter stream, and yet, I can still choose to seek out an account of which I’m curious.
The numbers are not recoding my life anymore, they are simply changing my interface when I open my twitter feed. It is like there is a rotating disc of portal windows allowing me to enter or keeping me out.
I’m reminded of my husband’s wry joke that he doesn’t want to be a member of any club that would have him as a member.
I’m old enough to have learned that you can’t force friendships. Humans have an instinct to dismiss or fear what they don’t understand.
I have also learned that the biggest barrier to friendships is not gender, race, religion, or education. It is wealth and neighborhood that divides us the most.
Wealth by itself does not make a person smart or superior, nor does poverty make a person lazy or stupid.
movingforwardslowly 