There is no question about it. I can feel it. — HAL 9000

Her presence on the web became erratic
as her cyber social network spread
and writing gigs proliferated. Static
from the constant RSS feeds bled
into the e-mails from obsessive men
with whom she made the classic fatal error
of politeness pre-evasion. Then
that black, persistent avatar sparked terror.

She locked her blog and tried to stay off line,
but friends and personal relationships
were virtual by then. A slow decline
began to slur the song across her lips,
corrupting her where no one can install
a double password, scan or firewall.

The Shadow Dancer The Cask Master