I’m a pensive gal. I don’t have pink hair. I don’t lift my skirt. Celebs? Don’t care. I don’t babble or shriek. I don’t look down. I wear baggy sweats as I walk around. Like most of us, I grin and bear it. Conversation— they don’t share it. To say my piece, I have to write. And what I type, could keep you up at night. Here’s where I found what I’d sought, to engage with the world in the realm of pure thought. Friends without faces, (some without names), unknown sexes and races-- words are our game. It’s called “platonic” because it’s the Ideal, without society’s “rules” we can type what we feel. Strip away the exterior and what remains is the Mind. Praise the Internet-- in it I found my own kind.