I was looking through the inverse mirrors that are my eyes, at a world that lacks true substance but is perfectly deadly. Things, in this world, tend to gravitate towards one another, like strange magnetism or warped love. Scientists, at one time, believed that love was an actual form of energy and that is what binds things together, more than polar attraction or gravity or glue. Maybe they're right; maybe they're wrong. I don't care- it doesn't apply to the fact of the matter.
Which is that things shift to form something greater, a thing greater than the sum of its individual parts. This node is but one in literally hundreds of thousands. One amongst countless others, infinitely infinitesimal and small and unimportant. It will be overlooked by the majority of the people who see Everything because to see it would be like looking at a single atom without a microscope. It does not draw attention to itself; in the grand scheme of things, it does not exist. It is a part of a whole but not the whole itself.
I am not a node. I connect with people. I get people off. I find the one person who isn't getting off and I say, "Hey, man. Get off."
Nodes connect. They get people off. They find the one person who connects with them, the person who isn't getting off and they say, "Hey, you. Get off." And beyond that, there isn't much of a connection with anything else. Perhaps it connects with other nodes, but that is merely a symptom of the connection it had with the person who read it or wrote it. Softlinks and hardlinks are effects and the cause is connectivity.
A node can be predicted; it can be a shell, a place that waits to house new information. Data, strung together by a myriad of variables and ideas and ephemeral concepts, all composed neatly into a story, dream, experience, fact, truth.
This is not a metanode.
It is too small to be anything greater.