Am I over?

Alright, there is no picture.

More proof that life is monotonous. I am not hero enough to transform the banal into spectular, the regular extrordinary, and the human supernatural.

And such is my life. Though my emotions float along the seas of digital music, and my eyes will try to convince my body I am actually at the grand canyon, still I believe I am lonely. I have two rooms to myself. The walls are plain and stoic. I've successfully liqudated all my brain stock through video games. When the monitor has shut down and the computer's peppy humming has stopped, I wonder at the life I've constructed.

In today's life, the wood and nails are digital. The rooms have no walls, but are sites with accounts and passwords. There is a site for the odd curiousities one has in late night insomnia. There is a site for conversing with friends. And there are jungle like shopping sights, pitting your electronic indiana jones skillset against site after site of advertisements and loopholes. But when all the voltage dries from the socket, what is left?

Are the corporations right? Are we merely just consumers?

With so much technology at our fingers, with so many tools at our disposal, why has not creativity exploded also? True, there are many more outlets, and show boards to display the arts, but where is the next generation of story tellers, artists? Where are this generation's lighthouses, and north stars to inspire and guide a new brigade of pencil warriors, and guitar smiths?

We have asked for the world on a plate, we have asked for bumpers in life's bowling game. Now that we rarely get a gutter ball, i wonder if life is even worth playing anymore.