Hello again SG community. It's been a long time, how you doin? I come crawling back to my internet space because my "real" identity got hit a little too hard physically. While riding my electric bike, fooling around and trying new ways to ride it, I took a little bit of a tumble.
While throttling with my left hand the scooter mysteriously dissapeared from under me, sending me plowing to greet the pavement below, after a tussle with the street I hopped up, thanked providence for my clean recovery and brushed myself off. When I brushed my shoulders however I came to the stark realization that my collar bone was not where it should be.
I went into a bit of a daze and just paced around for a while. Greg Neimeyer's words flashed through my head telling me that in the days of cyber identity we feel detached from our physical reality and seek to ground ourselves in concentrated physical experiences, like skateboards flinging themselves to concrete. This concentrated physical experience leaves us fufilled with physical reality while leaving more time for disembodied cyber realities.
As I paced the street next to a fallen scooter. eventually, someone stops and asks if I'm alright. I point to my collar bone. The man gives a stupid sideward look then proclaims that he too once broke a collar bone. The ordeal he explains left him in a vest shapped cast, ujnable to move his whole upper body. This, he says, did him no good however as the bone will never e straight again. I look at him in shock and ask if he'll take me the 3 minute drive to the hospital. No room, he says, How bout I just help you lie down on the grass. Well after some time and after a phone call and some grass rest my roomate and his girlfriend show p to whisk me away to the emergency room. Talks of spinal cord injury and head trauma as a result of a helmetless young fool abounds, and the neck brace is swiftly attached as I roll through the halls of the hospital.
I say "I think...

Hello again SG community. It's been a long time, how you doin? I come crawling back to my internet space because my "real" identity got hit a little too hard physically. While riding my electric bike, fooling around and trying new ways to ride it, I took a little bit of a tumble.
While throttling with my left hand the scooter mysteriously dissapeared from under me, sending me plowing to greet the pavement below, after a tussle with the street I hopped up, thanked providence for my clean recovery and brushed myself off. When I brushed my shoulders however I came to the stark realization that my collar bone was not where it should be.
I went into a bit of a daze and just paced around for a while. Greg Neimeyer's words flashed through my head telling me that in the days of cyber identity we feel detached from our physical reality and seek to ground ourselves in concentrated physical experiences, like skateboards flinging themselves to concrete. This concentrated physical experience leaves us fufilled with physical reality while leaving more time for disembodied cyber realities.
As I paced the street next to a fallen scooter. eventually, someone stops and asks if I'm alright. I point to my collar bone. The man gives a stupid sideward look then proclaims that he too once broke a collar bone. The ordeal he explains left him in a vest shapped cast, ujnable to move his whole upper body. This, he says, did him no good however as the bone will never e straight again. I look at him in shock and ask if he'll take me the 3 minute drive to the hospital. No room, he says, How bout I just help you lie down on the grass. Well after some time and after a phone call and some grass rest my roomate and his girlfriend show p to whisk me away to the emergency room. Talks of spinal cord injury and head trauma as a result of a helmetless young fool abounds, and the neck brace is swiftly attached as I roll through the halls of the hospital.
I say "I think I broke my collar bone" they say "There's a visible deformity on the right clavical"
I was told that some time between when the doctor first saw me and when i got my x-rays the bone set itself. This mishap on the breaks part saved me surgery, and there is nothing left but to put me in a sling give me some morphine and set me on my way.
That's why I'm left here. With my ability to finish mudding my walls, build my project and generally be a productive member of society removed. I find myself reinvesting in my cyber identity. I laugh thinking back to Greg Neimeyer's claim that collision with concrete is a response to disembodiment, and wonder how often it is the cause.