As Sarah Sloane said in her book Digital Fictions: Storytelling in a Material World, “writing has always been situated within broad cultural contexts and preoccupations, not to mention the context of an individual human being wrestling with her own soul.”[1]  I feel the need to recreate how I got here, develop a personal mythology, grapple with some of the ghosts that haunt me, and find my center.  Really, all I have are wishes. 

I'll be honest, much of the time, I don't know what should be done, whether it is how to make the world a better place or how to live a better life, I'm just angry, angry that what I can imagine, I don't see, and that who I really am can't be seen.  

But, I can't be trusted.  I am slippery, continually moving and changing.  I struggle with both internal and external complications.  This “second self” constructed here in this cyberspace is no more fixed or predictable than the “first self” it represents.  

© Salahub 2003