Cyberpoetry sonnets and Mystery

I feel proud of my act of faith i.e blogging while the world falls apart etc.

I've come to see that if I blog for just a half an hour a day my day goes smoother so again I am here and not only that but I plan to launch many many new blogs very soon. I have concluded that though Thoreau couldn't be said to be wrong when he said, "Most men live lives of quiet desperation," He did say "most" and therefore I say we be the most. I woke up and see that millions upon millions are going to Michael Jackson's funeral or are thinking about him in any major way though he's never though of them. And, that's all well and good, I guess. I mean, why does it bother me that as time goes on I realize that I can't relate to the vast majority of mankind? Since early on it bothered me and I suspected why but now I'm pretty sure-- I am now a blogger(was a writer before that, but you need to use stamps for that) and I depend on the understanding of strangers to keep it up.
The illussion that there is any truth to "mankind" or "human nature" or "humanity" is something that has been sustaining me and many, I suspect.

But, nowhere in the darkest or lightest recesses of my soul can I understand making pilgrimages with the intent of .... being a part of the death of Michael Jackson.
And, everytime it's referenced on the TV it makes some sense that if anyone wants the world to be one's audience then it would bum them out when they sense that they'd made some poor assumption about their audience.



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