My office is a obnoxious vortex that sucks me in. It's too warm; like a garbage can that has two day old diary products in it. As you throw a paper towel away you feel the liquidly heat contained within. When trying to live life as an informed and intelligent member of society, this four-walled hell gives me a run for my money. I sit in my room, digesting bits of processed ones and zeros and take it to be the God's honest truth. Facing my personal mecca intensely praying for countless hours a day, the colored portal that has become my source of light, barely inching out that orb in the heavens that has baffled men of science for years. They ought to take a look at this screen and the unknown appeal that it has. It has become my mistress. In my days of worshipping at the altar of code I have become half of what I once was. My bloated person proclaims what I once was, my punchy face shows the wear and tear of this "easy" life. A belly now protrudes from my midsection, taking up residence when I traded health for ease. Except for my hands. Though once calloused with an honest day's work are now smooth and dextertious. They have become the most active part of me - even eclipsing my brain. Ten tentacles trying to be three places at once so I can get what I desire. What we all desire. The definition of hermit has changed. We are all now hermits. Utterly alone. But all so "connected".