I Cannot Be Brought Back...

My son thinks I need help. My son thinks I am too far gone.  He says, he no longer knows who I am. He can no longer see recognition in my face when he calls my name. When he speaks to me, he feels I am miles away. He wants to call in help. For everyone to sit in a circle. A se'ance of sorts. To bring me  back. To the world that I came from..once upon a time.

He thinks an intervention is in order. He wants to gather twenty of my closest friends and family members. Have them sit in a circle. Holding hands. And chant me back to reality. Have them call the the greatest of spirits. Call to all those gone before me. To send me back. To him. To earth.

But what he doesn't understand is this...the people he will most likely call for help..are also too far gone. They are all standing with me, looking out at the great abyss. All of us, lost saints and sinners as one. The poor souls he wants to call in for help, cannot help me. They are with me, everyday, every night, and every weekend.

He wants to take my computer, sit it in the middle of the circle. He and his Daddy, will write down on slips of paper, everything they miss. Everything that they feel no longer receives my full attention. The attention they so warrant. As husband and son. Set those slips of paper on fire, along with my computer, and absolve me of my addiction.

I say to them, you cannot free me. Because I do not want to be free. I do not want the wire loosened from my limbs. I CHOOSE to be shackled to this screen. To my galactic connections. Interfacing with my likenesses. Linked to, and exchanging, words and feelings with my friends and family. By bright computer light.

I LOVE this addiction of mine. I refuse to succumb to every day, mundane life again. Life without instant chat, in box messages, beautiful shared links, and second by second updates. I refuse to relinquish updates you can receive at any given hour of the day. By simply typing your name, and chosen password. The gateway of information and communication will open and invite you in, with open arms. I refuse to let go of everyone I have found. I refuse to let go of everyone I have met.

So report me to the masses I say. Try and squelch my thirst for communication. I dare you to try and tamp me down. My enthusiasm in looking for something more than washing dishes, drying clothes and cooking three squares a day. Picking up stray socks, stinky shoes, and glasses with mold that have been on nightstands for days. Finding silverware and bowls in closets and under beds.Tripping over footballs, flip flops and baseball bats left in the floor. Scouring cookbooks for yet another way to prepare hamburger and chicken so that it tickles your pallet with delight. Waiting for the praise that never comes, for bleaching the most impossible stains into nothingness. For saving the science notes that almost got washed in three cycles of clean.

Me and this computer are here to stay. Unite my sisters. Unite all Unsung Hero's. Stand with me to stop this injustice. Chain link our arms together, in a "Red Rover, Red Rover, send Zachary right over" fashion. We WILL hold strong. He will not break our chain. Our chain of friendship, love and communication. WE WILL BE STRONG. HOLD ON SISTERS....HOLD ON. KICKING AND SCREAMING...we cannot be driven back in time...hold strong..and fight like a girl.

copyright © 2011 Michelle Mount Mims