Voices: So dreadaye, how's about you share with us just how it be like down there?

Silence.

Voices: Now, now dreadaye, we know that the folks here don't give a damn whether you be alive or faceless, but betwixt us and you (whoever you be) there are some peculiar goings on in this corner of the web worldwide that we'd love you to share your unique perspective on. So ...

Silence.

Voices: Fancy that! A tongueless, dropped-dead & beaten-up poet. Absolutely no use insofar as communication goes! Wtf you doing posturing this stuff as 'creative writing'?! Take our advice, don't give up the day job.

Silence.

Voices: We were thinking that this topic is sorta like for real. You know what we mean ...? LIke when you done gone and breathed your last breath (in the body you've spent some time in) after which you become various shades of memory to the folks that still inhaling. Yes, individual shades of ever-wilting memory till you be "remembered-in-passing" by folks on their own journey to elsewhere... before they too expire. Damn! What a merry-go-round!

Silence.

Voices: Part of the reason we stayed around here was because we feel oddly compelled to. Seemingly the more things change, the more they remain the same. And as if to prove the point we've had the inside track on your recent musings with regards to the 'Match Program.

Silence.

Voices: Though some folks never had their mind's infiltrated by your previous incarnation prior to the NEWCLEAR eruption that put paid to Mingled-Up & Stuff Like That, we notice that the 'Match Program' is still processing according to rules that must be made up as time passes ... God only knows how that thing works, because by some logic it alone knows we notice that dreadaye appears to be mutually matched with 4!

Voices: WTF! Can you believe it dreadaye? You be dead. You be faceless. Your profile is thoroughly unworthy of attention, yet still the Match Program, a figment of someone's hallucination, reckons that you be able to find four mutually dropped-dead & beaten up poets!

Silence

Voices: Never you mind because we can't believe it either....!

I wasn't MATCHED with any profile requesting that i ,"Skype me Babe"

By my own hand - as predicted though heaven only knows how so - a fair few of my words on here have been made to disappear into the nether regions of some server; never to be seen again. And so memory of a kind of existence is all that remains.

And so I soldier on as a pace-maker @ the keyboard. My thumb-tip making contact with & circling itself against the tip of each its' neighbouring digits as though trying to wear-out the unique pattern they have had imprinted upon them from birth.

Fact of the matter is that this is what it looks like when my mind when is deep in the throes of thought.

Yes, recollection and perhaps a wee small drop of wisdom are to be found amongst the remains of the deceased. Although being mortal neither of the two ought to be relied upon too heavily to make an appearance at the optimum moment.