RTFM:1:Recon

I’m interested in you, I’d like to learn from your experience, and so I pursue with undue cheeriness the question of what is all this then? Like a rooster to a hen I might say I like your cluck but you think I mean you’d like my flock. It lets me walk a mile in your shoe without the two of us making much ado of anything; heck we can talk right here and spend light years enlightening one and Other and when we overlap, does it feel good because it validates? Then odd it is that dates that bore feel like a waste to me but an old sweater to the other, and comfort and joy to them should not annoy me. But, bah, it’s a hum feature not a hum bug, and even a dreary two hours can end in a hug. Connections made are the edges between the pieces of we, the you that is you and the me that is me can only hope to be connected if the situations that some detest to express nonetheless must escape our breast, and we shall confess what we all already guess, that no one wanted it to get to this.  The network decayed the packets that were delayed were filled in by an algorithm of static and sidelong glances until the edge was frayed, was not remade, the end delayed but Death, be not stayed.