Hinged Letters

August 3, 2011
I want to write like the back in the day, in the shadows of candlelight, surrounded by musty coldness and the scratches of a well used quill. Or at least the ping of the typewriter as it finishes a line. Alas, I’m unfortunate enough to be in the era of modernity. Well, it’s always modern, because it’s relative. Why am I here? I’m not talking about the mysterious life defining question, though I do ask that. But instead, why am I typing at this moment. Well I read quotes, and collect them. And I’m reading a bunch right now. Quotes give you just the right amount to relate to, and they inspire me. I want to write and one day have people use my words to change the world. I want to be quoted. I want the quote unquote my name. Writing on a computer is all very well for airy words. They usually didn’t mean much but they are pretty, easy to write and suggested a lot of meanings. Writing on paper is different. It put emphasis on every stroke, more definite. Everything was planned before hand; I knew how it would end before the first mark. It was a way to write what I thought when I thought. Words came easy to me when reading. I wonder how typing on a typewriter would affect me…I decided I wanted one. But I don’t need it, what I need is words. I need them more than water, more than food, more than anything. They feed my soul, shelter me, comfort my insecurities and understand me more than anyone could.

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