gubster's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- RIPJ There is something both frustrating and beautiful about �growing up surrounded by people that knew you before you even knew you. That knew your parents before you know them. Neighbours . . . �that unavoidable part of life everyone has them. They are always there see and hear everything.. . . you avoid them, seek them,talk about the weather with them borrow stuff from them and they are always there just a part of the community. How nice it is to grow up surrounded with the familiar. Today Ii reflect on community. Living in a new country each year there is never really a sense of community, do I miss anything? What does community mean today anyway in our online world. Isn,t my community the people I interact with daily? Surely this is my community. �So my community includes the old weird tartan guy who shouts abuse at me every morning, roaming stag parties that migrate to my street every weekend always with a �witty remark to make or a rugby tackle to take you down., a street full of shop owners, my friends old and new in this city work colleagues and all my friends and family's round the world i digitally interact with. �I guess this is more and more the truth for people these days but still this fluid community is nothing like a street of neighbours. Online you have the luxury of choosing what to share, choosing who you are and what to tell, in the real solid street it's harder to choose . . . . .fustrating and beautiful.
Lack of community: 11:45 a.m. - 2012-02-17 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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