Hay in a Pincushion

Craigslist personals: that wierd, sad, lonely corner of our endlessly mystifying culture.

This is an occasional late-night morbid-curiosity hobby of mine.  Something about the raw, desperate tenor in these online guttees appeals to my sense that we are approaching some social deconstruction, here.  We are losing something.

On most pages, in most Craigslists, tucked between the prostitutes and dick pics, are the cries of desperately lonely people who do not know where to look for companionship.  They cast a line for a needle in a haystack; they self-consciously admit they've never done this before; they nervously disclose irrelevant information.  The mask reveals much more than it conceals.

And for all I read and do not understand, I also fail to comprehend what draws me back.