One’s own website is obviously a form of exhibitionism. After all we’ve been walking on two legs for millions of years and dangerously exposing our hearts and genitals. If homo erectus is to be recognised as the origin of exhibitionism then his continuation must surely be the development of speech and writing, followed by science and technology, which resulted in the all-encompassing and imperious mass media. Live broadcasts from every corner of our globe, reality shows and interviews with  n o t  a  s i n g l e  question unasked have accustomed us to viewing humanity stripped of all its mysteries and viewed by millions. One’s soul and physiology are presented on a plate. Communication is now a way of life, a fashion and obsession.

Should the accusation of stripping off so easily be also directed towards all those who suffer from the affliction of compulsive writing, referred to as logophilia? But what innocence compared to the entire world opening up so publicly! After all, it’s not long before paper books and magazine shall drift away in favour of the world of electronics. In coming decades everything man will ever need, will be implanted in the form of a chip in his head or thumb, or a mini-brain will be inserted in a bracelet. It will suffice to synchronise the range of the multi-media bracelets and to touch one’s wrists… Everyone will know everything abut everyone. One common knowledge – no secrets, no curiosity.

And what about that second obsession, whose name I cannot pinpoint, and which involves photo reporting the highlights of your life, catching that moment on camera? If we all jotted down our observations and dilemmas concerning our lives and decorated everything with an abundance of films and photographs, the Internet would burst with all those millions of websites. And nobody would even read them. I hope I’m outstripping this vision of a garbage can and that I’m not just “another one”.

This website is supposed to substitute meeting me: poring over albums filled with too many photographs, spinning tales nobody pays much attention to because the words are elusive and everything in the background is so distracting. When you visit this website you can just slow down and fall silent. Concentrate. There’s nobody there to put you off. You can focus on your reading, have a good look. This activity may be repeated, or if you lose patience you can just click on the “x” and close everything in a second. You don’t even have to revisit. That’s the good thing about websites. They’re not like meeting someone over a glass of beer.

The whole point of building my own little nest on the Internet stems from the fact that you don’t know me. Not at all and not for the last fifty years. There’s just a superficial glance, a fleeting smile and the odd joke or two to cover your despair. Drinking alcohol in order to talk a lot but remember nothing. Then we have the everyday stereotypes, the everyday encounters and perfunctory “how are things?”. But that’s trivialising relationships, alienation and dehumanisation. It lowers us to pavement level. That’s where our shoes meet. But that’s no place for thought and emotion. We are just tightly contained, closed and fortified as though repelling the enemy..

So, I`ve opened up. What shall I get in return?. 

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