In Yahoo's Empty Halls, You Can Hear Your Footsteps Softly...

When I think back at emailing, how distant and personal and almost charming it seems. Now that everyone congregates in the bustle of an ever-crowded noisy room called Facebook, no one communicates anymore on a personal level. Why, personal emailing is going the way of letter-writing. In the same way that the universe is speeding ever faster expanding away from us, so too does emailing seem flung away into the past like an old newspaper, gaining ever closer to letter-writing as a forgotten but endearing pastime. Facebook allows us to "communicate" with and hear from a larger number of folks at once. But we don't communicate anymore; we announce, we pronouce, we rant and rave and share, then pray for admiring comments. Ironic, as the amount of time we spend on Facebook is probably only a fraction of the time it would take to compose or read a letter. Imagine the long afternoons spent meditating on thoughts of the recipient to whom you compose a letter, pen and paper and a warm slant of afternoon sunlight. For a short time, that person was soley in your heart. No more. Facebook offers the single voice what a big city offers a solitary drifter: crowds and crowds, a slaughterhouse of humanity, a welcoming indifferent invitation to loneliness.