It's Been a Few Months

Welcome back, I say to myself. It seems that the computer speaks my own words back to me--in proceeding type face. I listen and watch as these words are spoken, in my mind, written, in space and time, and observed as something totally separate from the man that types before them. Writing with pad and paper was always my way of knowing if I had something worthy or not. It took years to take the step from pencil to pen, for I was unsure of my ability to write in such permanent ink. What if I messed up? People would surely know when they see the scribbled out nonesense on my page. I would much prefer the little goobers of pink eraser marks.

In life the pen is not the answer anymore-it is the key pad and updated internet connection...faster, more accessible and at the very least, an attention grabber. Ink is not permanent and erased pencil lead cannot hide the feelings that if I were to write down the wrong answer, then I would see myself as a failure. The pen was scary, it took confidence and no matter what was there to see, there was no turning back. An attempt to cross-out might show the reader exactly how frustrating it is to see what one has done and wish it were gone. I regress to a time where there was no delete button and time was real time, not virtual and separate. To be connected through lines of electronic means has taken us from connected as human to human, to a much differect beast. This one can only speak in clever tones, without facial expression and tone of voice. Anything can be misinterpreted because we judge words on a screen and leave the faces for the faceless.

I think that I might go and find a pencil, to sketch out the rest of my life. Don't worry the eraser marks will be a sign to you all that I am yet to figure it all out. It only I could erase the very nature of my personality that seeks only to destroy my best of intentions. Damn, I wore through the page. Does anyone have a clean slate to start right now over? Torn pages and pencils with flattened erasers will only bring me to a better place, a place where I can accept the words that I have spoken and the scribes that do keep track of all that I am.