Bug On A Pin

My slightly off-skew brain brought forth this image. To speak to the www with reckless abandon places one in a position like a bug on a pin. Open to close examination. Unlike the hapless dragonfly, we place ourselves willingly on that pin. No need to become too introspective as to ask why. 

Intellectually I know that I am not sitting at a nice wine bar in the city, talking to a good friend when I sit at my desk, merrily typing whatever comes floating into my brain at that given time.


OK, I know this intellectually, but that's where the awareness stops. Because as I am sitting in my nice office with the goldenrod colored walls and shelves and shelves of books, horse show trophies and Margaret the Cat always perched in front of my keyboard, it is so easy to feel a sense of intimacy and felicity. It truly does feel like a nice little chat.


Since it's just between us, even though we're not in that nice St. Paul wine bar I sometimes do have a glass of wine while we talk. Margaret abstains, but she will, from time to time, indulge in a little catnip. As I often tell her, most things are good in moderation. Even a little internet chat.