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You see me. I know you do. You walk past in a sea of your contemporaries not giving me a second glance. I am not resentful, as you are only doing what those of your age do. Without facebook, myspace and other far more sophisticated software interactions I wonder if you ever really communicate at all. You sit in large rooms full of people typing out little amusing texts on your blackberries, android compatibles, Iphones, and tablets never uttering a single word out loud except an occasional excuse me aimed into the ether ceiling. Do you know the luxury of a fireside chat, ladies only poker night, or the intimacy of a verbal interaction with body language and eye contact?

You yearn to connect, with your peers, with another soul or possibly more. You yearn to share your experiences, to be understood. You ache to be seen, acknowledged. Seen as a person with emotions and intellect. Appreciated for those gifts that you have in abundance, those attributes that make you unique and exceptional. But no one can see you from the glossy screen in their palms. Attempting to fit chubby fingers to tiny lettered keys, the effort is all-consuming and futile. Don’t the makers of these objects know that your fingers aren’t those of a four-year old child?

You rely on auto-correct and fail to capitalize anything, appearing to the world as a dim-witted clod. Of course your friends don’t care, they are as careless as you are.  You and those like you are missing the point.

Welcome to the matrix! You have voluntarily joined the huddled masses called “copper top.” That which your energy fuels is capitalistic society; old white men stuffing cash into their pockets wanting nothing of you except your money and to survey your buying habits. When you meet your friends in the corridors you ask “Got an Iphone 5 yet? An Ipad3 or is it the 1.2”  Your name is truly unimportant as you have gained the all-encompassing label of consumer.

You rail against the man and the machine that fails to employ you and treats you like the number that you are. You rant about the unfairness and bitterness of life, asking  “when do I get mine? or why can’t I get a decent job?”  You pause and stammer out your opinions based on hearsay and the latest fox news headlines. You take issue or promote a cause only when it fits with your schedule, or the clothing that you wore that day.

You wear pink to support breast cancer, bravo! you’ve found a cause. Did you know that far more woman die every year from heart attacks and complications due to heart disease? How about domestic violence? But pink is pretty you say. So is living a long full life.

You are half of the world’s population. Half! You have the capacity to do anything your male counterparts can do, and YOU young lady can do it with a full range of emotions. Ladies, please put down the phone and talk to each other. Create a dialog. Who knows it may change your life.