I feel like I can't write as much as I need to. I can talk all day long but writing gets tricky. Ray Bradbury tells me to write at least one thing every day. How exhausting. As if having all these thoughts running through my head wasn't enough, now I have to express them coherently? My brain says no thank you but my heart calls out to the old typewriter sitting in my dining room that I have yet to get a ribbon for. It needs some use, as I can only assume that's what all the great writers typed on. I envision some great masterpiece having been typed on that very machine and it makes me smile. As if the ceremony of using something so archaic to churn out a piece of literature in this day and age makes it a little sweeter. I think it does and I have to say I am in love with the notion. Makes me feel like I am going back to something more honest and intimate. All of this new technology that I use to express myself is almost too immediate. The patience it takes to sit through the incessant clamor of the keys as they strike the paper is definitely something not everyone is born with. I feel myself gravitating toward slower things, even noticing a shift in my speed at mundane tasks I used to rush through.
Maybe I finally came to the conclusion that as long as I'm living and breathing, there's not much that I will miss. I should write about that.
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