We think we are connected because we have connectivity; but are we really? Here’s what I feel…
I am a netizen, a different kind of citizen, I inhabit virtuality,
I live in cyberspace, I know of no other place, that’s my reality.
My language is a bit vague, I seldom can write full sentences,
barring the oxymoronic virtual-reality, I have no further pretences.
I try to write, but I can’t get seem to get beyond 140 letters,
and not getting `likes’ on my tweets, gives me the jitters.
I don’t socialise, or have friends, or physically meet and greet,
my existence is measured by how much I can retweet.
I abbreviate my words, my `the’ has become `d’, and I LOL,
because laughing in reality is not fashionable, it really doesn’t sell.
My soul belongs to the internet, my mantra is connectivity,
my friend is my laptop, its battery symbolises my longevity.
I e-chat, skype, yahoo, google, and love a virtual hangout,
I have friends and contacts lists of people I know nothing about.
I have voice over protocols, messengers, itunes and whatsapp,
my inboxes fill up through the day, though much of it is crap.
I don’t read, listen to music, or go to out to watch a play,
I live in a cocoon, and very soon I won’t know night from day.
I stare at the screen, waiting for my net messenger’s ping,
you know its been ages since I’ve heard a live voice sing.
I don’t come out to look at the sky, or watch birds in flight,
I don’t have to, I don’t need to, I have no need for insight.
The reason for why existence is to be in with what’s trending,
I never seem to move anywhere, though forwards I keep on sending.
For me a bird is an icon on twitter, my popularity’s new threshold,
did someone say, beware, all that twitters, need not be told?
I am a netizen, a different kind of citizen, living in virtual reality,
forever connected, yet when dissected, completely alone in this city