A Better Ink

So, the nuclear option has happened to my laptop. The hard disk has gone from full of Pico's writing/ schoolwork/ info to a set of red letters that add up to useless during a diagnostic check at the Apple store. So it goes. It would be better if I had backed up more of my school stuff or the progress I made on fiction pieces. Or saved the name/ time/ location of my interview on Wednesday.

What's done is done, unfortunately. I am a fan of the positive; this is a new week (or so) of my life, being almost computer free. My brothers use an old Dell; it's from 1998 or so, a heavy brick of a laptop that is now missing some buttons, lacking in memory and full of virus problems. It's slow and they use AOL for access. I've added Firefox, but still, I won't be a constant e-mailer, nor will I be able to research whims about basketball players or long-tail distribution.

Those distractions have come to define my life + dominate my way of thinking. I get distracted, treating topics like moving targets in a carnival shooting gallery. Never delving into any one thing. It shows in my writing-- ideas and snippets and maps to where I want to go, unfinished + unconnected words that represent great hope and passive failure. This is a chance to make sea change, turn the rudder, hoist the main sail, swim to a different shore, and introduce midsummer nautical themes.

I am writing this (originally) with a pen I thought did not work. It's dry, the ink is not always constant. But it serves its purpose. Using my hand in this way- writing like in second grade versus typing-- hurts, requires exercise, as it does for Eben. My hand hurts from a page. That is good, I have to hold my thoughts longer using pen and paper. I edit with strikethrough lines not deletions. I don't turn away to read more about baseball trades that didn't happen (but SIlver, Raycroft, &c, y'all can catch me up).

Further: I have time. To finally organize my papers. To create new writing samples. To rediscover the concept of "end of page." To restart the short stories that have been kicking around my head. To think longer and harder about podcasting. To finish books. To practice my backhand. To run.

To rediscover self without the regular crutches like reading the paper + looking through jobs I'm not qualified for + skimming dozens of blogs + playing with my music and address book and photos, emailing for hours, checking RSS feeds, IMDB'ing actors, checking AllMusic for music information.

If you want to reach me, it's better to call. It's gonna be good, and in a week my laptop and I start over fresh.

But damn, I'm gonna miss all that good ass porn I had saved on my 'puter.

p.s. khadijah, i hope you're doing well.




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