I think I'm in love with the internet.

I sit in front of the screen and I read what you e-mail to me, and what you post for everyone. I watch your videos and listen to your podcasts. And so many of you are brilliant and beautiful.

I refuse to believe that I am a geek in this respect, or that I am in any way removed from reality. The internet is made of people. Real people with real lives.

I love the honesty of the internet, even when it stings. The meat world is a game: It's a game we all learned as children, and we're playing it still. In the meat world, we are all afraid. We live in "quiet desperation." But through this network, we become honest and strong. We are not afraid of judgement. We meet people who are a lot like us, no matter how strange we are. It is the only real democracy.

Sometimes I feel angry, disgusted, and enraged by how people behave in the real world. Most of the time, I think to myself, "Well, that's what they need to do. They are weak people after all." But more and more, probably because of the admirably tough people I work with, I find myself completely repulsed by the weakness I see in the world at large. So in those times I turn to the internet, where I find comfort and even more people to respect.

It is becoming Pavlovian. Tonight, as I slipped on my headphones and put my fingers on the keyboard, the familiarity of it was physically palpable. I felt happier immediately. And more and more, I want to extend this happiness to the non-internet world. I want to connect as honestly and freely in that world as I do in this one. It's a process that involves banishing fear and denying shame.

Judge me if you want. Say that I am removed from reality. I don't really care. I'm not trying to fit your definition of cool; I'm just trying to be me.