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Про виртуальное общение
Кто о чём, а хозяйка ЖЖ опять о том же. Космополитичная девушка по прозванию Уральская панда, родом с Урала, живущая в Москве, чувствующая себя как дома в любом городе, виртуально общаться не любит и не хочет.
Когда ICQ и веб только появились, я развлекалась тем, что у меня были виртуальные друзья со всех континентов. Я баловалась удалёнными раппортами с людьми за тысячи километров, потрясённые собеседники говорили мне по ICQ: "Я тебя чувствую, это удивительно". Это был любопытный и полезный экспириенс, и теперь я знаю, что виртуальный раппорт это только малая и неглубокая часть реал-лайф раппорта. Мне интересен именно реал-лайф, и для меня попытки установления виртуального контакта бессмысленны и увы, скучны. Я вынесла из своих виртуальных приключений Фриззи, Фриззи это навсегда, с ней мы прошли через одну достаточно неприятную историю, теперь уже смешную, как и все эти случаи из сетевой жизни. Но у меня нет сейчас стремления поддерживать удалённую дружескую связь с другими людьми, я отвечаю по ICQ только людям из Москвы и ближайшего Подмосковья, то есть досягаемым в реал-лайф (либо Вике, которая приезжала к нам сюда в гости). Возможность утонуть в глазах человека, находящегося на расстоянии вытянутой руки значит для меня больше, чем самый искусно наведённый виртуальный раппорт, чем тысячи слов, которые не могут быть произнесены голосом.
Это я типа написала самооправдательный пост для всех, кому я не ответила. Может быть они случайно зайдут сюда и прочтут.

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Меня пугает слово "раппорт"

раппорт - психологический контакт, ничего более
с моими виртуальными собеседниками я только говорила. Но имея желание можно достичь неслабой глубины раппорта даже по ICQ, а мне в те времена это было интересно. Оно такое же, как в реальности, но обеднено по всяким визуальным-аудиальным-кинестетическим каналам

Got you Ural Panda :) Maybe you didn't mean particularly me but I got myself as a part of whom you refer with this post. There wasn't my name, but I saw myself here and wanted to write a bit. Well maybe not a bit. Let's see how much do I have it packed inside. Deep inside.

I know what you have experienced long time ago. I can guess about the reasons that have made you to chat in ICQ living in your town of Yekaterinburg. I can guess this. Maybe I am wrong but the walls were tight, world was small. As small as that Chelyabinsk was the abroad, the mystery, the unknown. I guess you wanted to imagine, wanted to try, wanted to feel and know :)

After... things have changed. You arrived to Moscow, and became a post industrial girl with it's goods and bads :) Something like . I guess now the Sydney, AU seems the same close damn thing as the Chelyabinsk :) Anyways new city, new order, new lifestyle brought new real friends. I remember there was a time I used to read your LJ along with daily news.

Well you are right choosing the real friends and ...

damn English, I wonder if you ever noticed that there is no word in English to translate знакомый

Ah where did we stop? Ah friends. real ones. The ones that you can touch, see, be touched and seen and so. You are great in your choice. No doubt (You used to like the girl who sings this) this is great.

But. Sometimes it is impossible. Like us. We are far from our friends and .... Haven't seen them for a year and a half and it feels like hell. You have great adaptability you left your home and started a new life. Got a new home. All cities are potential homes of Ural Panda. Well we don't experience this. I always new that I will never have home. It ended up being true. You have new friends and ... Whatever.

We found new friends too. We love them, they love us. But something is missing. I can't explain. I do not know. It is not that the new ones are bad or not as good as old ones. Nope. The same. I do not know how else to express this. The same. Not an millimeter less or more. It's like in Army. You share a shelter, you celebrate your birthdays and wedding anniversaries together, you fight a cold together and here you go friends. But as I said something is missing. And I can't fill it. Well I think nobody can. It is kind of everything that you pass through is a part of you. Good or bad but it is a part of you. Sometimes we try to forget the past, to trim the pain, but we end up trimming ourselves.

So what I am saying is you, Frizzzy and the other women and men were part of me/us. Notice a keyword WERE. It never ends. If it starts it goes trough till the day we die. So you both ARE the part of me. Of course you can think differently. This is the way I see things, but who knows what the hell is wrong with me.

Note that I haven't asked any questions here hoping to continue the conversation. Nor I wanted self-justification. And it is not an invitation to start reading our page at LJ.

It's mostly political, half Armenian half English (broken one, the only one I know) and there is nothing interesting for the most of the people. I do not have talent to write and attract people. Sometimes I track my page and see that it got 2-6 views per month. It's kind of having a political party and a family of 4 adults and always getting 3 votes in elections :) Well I do not complain. This pictures me that my LJ is not for what people use theirs.

Well time to face the truth.
I wanted to write you and Frizzzy. There is a stupid thing like odnoklassniki. Onces a girlfriend of mine wrote me in that portal. I wanted to answer and told my wife about this before acting. And she smiled. And that's where I got that. She was first except me to portrait this inside of me. To make me see that this is part of me. Not WAS but IS. I guess she just understands this like I do. Just feels this like I do. The part I can't ignore, can't deny, can't vanish. No way. And what happened to me is like .

Please do not answer even if one of you wants so. I just wanted to express a bit, well not a bit but a lot. Well it is not even important. The ones who are bored with the annoying story from the past won't read till this point :)

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