This isn't what I was looking for.

I found Wireclub because I was interested in the chat room feature. I never really experienced it in any other way before, being relatively new to social media in general.

I had a few good chats, but I realized that what I was really looking for was someone I could call a friend; someone that I could talk on a regular basis and know that I wasn't just one of the hundreds of friends that they have. I was looking for that connection, something personal in a site that is so blatantly impersonal.

As I browse through the chat rooms, nothing comes up anymore that seems to interest me, want to make me jump into a conversation and get to know a stranger. Perhaps this is the wrong sort of format for me? I don't know. I don't know of any other kind. I don't own a phone so Facebook is out of the option at the moment.

Before I go through with deleting my account/profile here, maybe someone could talk me out of it, give me a few suggestions as to how I can approach Wireclub differently?

Across The Drift: a poem read to the sounds of Flybyno, piano by Maxence Grimbert-Barré

The sound of a beating heart cascaded through the infinite valleys of the dark

Twinkling lights guided its echoes, singing a chorus that could only be heard by angels

Digital in form, organic in emotion, the calculating mind wondered why its heart beats, why the chorus of stars sang its song

Eyes awaken to the beauty of time, its possibilities, the path yet unexplored

The coldness of the dark challenges, the isolation of the drift suffocates

Digital is the body, organic the spirit, the calculating mind pondered how it could feel the cold, experience the isolation, yet know beauty when it saw it

Across the drift, it found the answer

Children of the Sky: a short short story read to the music of Blackheart by Two Steps From Hell

Unrelated to the story currently being shared, this is a short narration I wrote while listening to a song. I hope you enjoy it!



I awoke from a slumber that seemed to last for an eternity. When my eyes opened, I found myself in a realm of grasses and waters, majestic mountains, blazing deserts, and skies, grand, majestic, ever expanding. I looked up at those skies and felt an aching inside. It was not in my chest but upon my back. I felt it and noticed that something was missing. It was a strange feeling for no one else around me seemed to mind, that emptiness. Something was there, something was missing, but what? And then the answer dawned on me as I gazed upon a flock of birds gliding through the air, wings!

Where were my wings?! I remember now, I used to soar in the skies alongside those birds, looking down upon the beautiful landscape below. Why have they disappeared? Why does no one here have theirs, why do they not remember? I felt isolated in this beautiful landscape. It was the sort of bizarre, exotic beauty that was supposed to be gazed upon from a distance, but to see it so close... from the ground, it was unnerving, to say the least. I belonged up there, the great blue ocean above, dancing through white clouds and sparkling rays of sunshine. They had a name for what I once was, an angel they called me. I look upon those same people and I thought to myself, they too once flew high above, with wings of their own. Is it any wonder that they look to the skies, find ways of reaching the heavens of above, trying to fill a gap, a hole in their being that was once full?

And so I moved on. I could not find those wings, but instead found something else, something that the people around me created to help fill that gap. I found airplanes, vehicles that acted as wings. In a plane, memories of my days in the skies above came flooding back to me. I looked down upon the landscape, and my breath was taken away once again. The beauty was so much more, it magnified in radiance and I knew, I knew deep down inside, that this is where I truly belonged. The aching though... it won't go away, and I suspect it never will.

We were children of the sky, once upon a time, and perhaps, some day, we will return with wings of our own.

The unfinished, but more polished story.

It is here that I will share one of the short stories I've been writing. It is still in development, but I have enough to give people a taste of what is to come in the future. I will introduce the story in increments in the comment section below so that people don't have to read it from bottom to top.

Testing... 1, 2, 3

Checking to see that those who are supposed to see this can see it. Also, tstarr, would you prefer the unedited version of the story I spoke of earlier, or the edited one? One is finished, but incomplete, the other will come out better polished but may take longer to get here.

Well, that answers the first concern. Thank you!