What if

everyone read everyone else's blogs in the world.  Would we fill the universe with intimacy? 
 
I suspect in The Resurrection everyone will know everyone else like everyone wanted to be known by writing blogs.  But we couldn't wait for that to happen.  Since we can't delay our gratification until this afternoon, much less until death, we go for the anonymous screen dump of our "self" and hope someone out there really cares what we think about artichoke dip, the Middle East, J-Lo, our "personal journey", or even more mundanely, how our day went.  
 
So, I join the blog.  I guess it goes like this: I'll post a thought then check anxiously to see if anyone acknowledges  my digital presence.   How many times a day I check is inversely proportional to either my narcissism or loneliness, yes?
 
Fishing for existence.  Facelessly shedding anonymity.  Baring what little soul I have, hoping that with the addition of another bit of someone else's fragile soul I, we, might become slightly more of a human being.  Even if its only zeros and ones and pixels in a darkened room, it has meaning because it came from flesh, dirty fingernails, (or maybe manicured), tapping out the sum of an existence.   Who is capable of grasping, much less embracing, even a paragraph of another human being? 
 
I'll think about that while I'm fixing dinner.