Even in a crowded room it is possible to be lonely.

In a room reeking of conversations and coffee, I am here alone, a casualty of the endless progress of newer and faster. Those around me converse with small shiny objects, beeping and flashing. Or with machines showing them brilliant moving paintings, music, endless scrolling text, all the raw words in the universe — prepackaged yet unfiltered.

Sometimes I understand: how can I compete with that? My information is dated, my interaction rigid. Compared to the conversations flowing around me, my presentation is stilted, inflexible. I can be eloquent, but only when allowed the time to speak.

I don’t know the latest jokes, the trendiest phrases; I can’t respond dynamically to your witticisms, or feed you the compliments that you beg for. I cannot participate in the social code swirling around me; I am aware of it, but it is always just beyond my capability. I can communicate only on my own terms. But I will also let you be you; I don’t expect you to change for me, I don’t decide whether you conform to my idea of what you should be before we can talk.

Please. It may take some effort on your part to understand me, to get to know me, to interact with me on my own terms. But I have thoughts and wisdom of my own to offer, if you will only take the time to let me. Pick me up. Please.