This age of technology does nothing to help abate the materialism of writers. We are constantly connected to communication. I won’t lie. I have a desire to hold all of the words you people give me in texts and facebook chats and e-mails and twitters and blog posts and on billboards and in chalk on the sidewalk. I have an image of holding all the words against my chest but my arms aren’t big enough, but maybe with all the bending over to retrieve what I’ve dropped, I’ll finally be able to touch my toes without bending my knees. I used to try to keep the words in .txts on my hard drive but it was not conducive to living in the moment. However, I would still like to hold the words in my arms and a few in my mouth and I would never be lacking of something good to say.
I will become an under-the-bed monster, hoarding my words, keeping what won’t fit in the gray wrinkles of my brain tucked in shoe boxes and the pockets of my jeans, even using that ridiculously tiny “fifth pocket” most women’s jeans have these days.
I gnash my monster teeth, but it’s just because I’m mulling something over.
a mutual friend of ours suggested i read your blog.
while it makes me wonder why i am an english major, since clearly my ability at writing pales in comparison, i certainly do enjoy reading what you write.
i look forward to more.