March 24, 2013

"There’s this invisible network that connects us. You just can’t see it, but it’s there all the time."

"Secrets feel like walls when we keep them inside, but when we find the courage to share them, they become bridges."

11 comments:

Eric the Fruit Bat said...

"Confession is good for the soul only in the sense that a tweed coat is good for dandruff - it is a palliative rather than a remedy."

-- Peter De Vries

Anonymous said...

Those Who Listen in the Walls already Know This.

They are There when you are Ready.

Anonymous said...

Invisible Fitzgerald Robot says:

"Through this twilight universe Daisy began to move again with the network, suddenly she was again keeping half a dozen dates a day with half a dozen blogsites, and drowsing asleep at dawn with her laptop on the floor beside her bed."

edutcher said...

Wonder if there ever was one from TripleA.

Mumpsimus said...

“Secrets feel like walls when we keep them inside, but when we find the courage to share them, they become bridges.”

There's not much you can do with that sentence, other than walk around it slowly and admire it.

Anonymous said...

Invisible Fitzgerald Robot says:

"Sometimes she and Miss Baker texted at once, unobtrusively and with a bantering inconsequence that was never quite chatter, that was as cool as their white iPads and their impersonal eyes in the absence of all connectivity."

Anonymous said...

Invisible Fitzgerald Robot says:

"At the enchanted metropolitan twilight I felt a haunting loneliness sometimes, and felt it in others — poor young hipsters who loitered with free WiFi, waiting until it was time for a solitary Starbucks latte with soy milk— young Tweeters on the internet, wasting the most poignant moments of night and life."

Anonymous said...

Invisible Fitzgerald Robot says:

"There’s something very sensuous about it — overtly cute, as if all sorts of funny LOLcats were going to fall into your hands."

Anonymous said...

Invisible Fitzgerald Robot says:

"The prolonged and tumultuous argument that ended by herding us into that chat room eludes me, though I have a sharp physical memory that, in the course of the comments thread, my underwear kept climbing like a damp snake around my legs and intermittent beads of sweat raced cool across my back."

Anonymous said...

I thought that my 'Fitzgerald-Hip Hop Art-Beyonce/Limbaugh-Bow Down' comment yesterday was sure to to entice a Gatsby post from Ann.

My Magic is Gone.

I am contiguous to Nothing.

Anonymous said...

Invisible Fitzgerald Robot says:

"There is no confusion like the confusion of a simple blogger, and as we drove away Yglesias was feeling the hot Tweets of panic."