The flip side of one having vested interests in social networks and being in eventual circles of acquaintances, friends, not to mention, the progeny of one's own school and alma mater, is that one can really be at dark. Call it the Eddy Currents effect.
The large herd bleats its existential troubles and matters of its kin; small loops of individuals, with special interests, potential and functions, are, together, perennially perpetrating matters and activity of sizable merit; and then there are those who turned themselves to the ground beneath one's feet. While one is facing a pack of audience that is waiting to put its digits through one's modest webbings, excrements and antiperistaltic matter, the ethic inside one will prompt to one the many sharp troubles of associating oneself with the small loops. Modest sheeps send their invites to all and sundry over modest means of communication. One is not always in a position to respond.
The truth about not being invited, is that it does hurt, but there are hundreds of such invitations that will turn up - this is of course, assuming that one is, eventually, invited - and that there will be time - there will be time - to make up for all of that hurt, whine, hemp, salt, acid and soap. The other truth about not being invited is, unfortunately, however fat, one is just another electron in the conductor. A third truth, a truth of consolation, is that the ideal electron to be is a golf-playing, fat tummy, pussy footing banker.
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