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CyberSurrealism June 5, 2006

Posted by Matt Hurst in Personal Life, Prose.

It has surely been a nerve wrecking and surreal week so far in NYC.  The city is still a bit much, and I had the misforutne of staying in a hotel without room service.  I would surely be held captive high above times square, if not for the darling Lara pulling me about.  Though she would claim that she would keep me in as well if she had her way, she has taken me a world away to visit the new york a tourist would never consider see, and I too the kinds of places (central Park) that some new yorkers would otherwise be reluctant to visit.
She is even more beautiful, her voice far kinder than any telecommunications might be able to convey.  Everything about the trip has seemed as if a dream, although the pinch of each other’s cheeks would seem to relegate it a reality awoken to.  The consumaters are a fotunate and geeky bunch, not afraid of strong drink for the most part.  I knew when the photo booth at the hole in the wall bar turned into a kissing booth that the group had broken free of their reluctance by the internet.  The cross-over into reality is nearly seemless for me, as well as those i have met, because our avatars have come to become a self-actualiztion under the surface.
But the surface is temporary, and at eye levekl walking the sidewalks I see stories of delight and terror.  The only consulation yet is waking next to a pair of eyes with such kindness as to tear at one’s heart.  It brings to mind a thousand songs as the sun peaks into the hotel room and softly glows a blue hue over Lara’s rosey cheeks.
From the top of my hotel room lokking down I can see the mess of taxi cabs travelling in packs at night, tourists stopping to take photos of everything in between darting under the rain, and the swagger and stride of the officers siren.  The noise pollution between to merge into a hum of activity, but our voices manage to carry a signal understood to the two of us alone.  Even her flaws are beautiful scars that speak of charecter and I yearn to heal them as I wrap her in my arms.
I cannot remember being this happy and terrified at the same time.  In short, the city that should be killing me is actually giving a life affirming euphoria.  I should be sick but whatever doesn’t kill me makes me stronger, right?  Not really.
The post card is postage included.  There will be more to tell upon the package’s delivery.  I have opened the box, and pandora has spread something wonderful.  Can I include shipping confirmation?  Consumating complete.

Self-indulgent but honest and meaningfully,



1. blenderboi - June 6, 2006

Sometimes it takes looking out a tall building to realize stuff. NYC is probably the ebst place for that, if not close to the best!

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