Why I write
Wednesday, Jan. 07, 2004 at 7:50 P.M.
I've always had a certain craving for written communication. I blame it on my parents. They are the ones who set me up with penpals, they are the ones who moved our family when I was 13, and letters became the only way I could afford to keep in touch with my friends.
Of course, email is not so quaint as the days when "snail mail" was the highlight of our day. We used to wait for our mail carrier, slyly hiding behind the semi-wall that seperated the livingroom from the entryway. The wall was just wide enough to hide us from the warbled view through the tall frosted window beside the frontdoor.
And there we would wait,
and then pounce,
snatching the envelopes as they came through the mail slot in the door,
sometimes tearing them directly from the carrier's hand before they had a chance to let go.
And it is because of all this that I rely so much now on my online communication. I have a need for communication that I can see, that i can re-read, that can be saved. It seems more real because is can take a tangible form. As nice as it can be to hear someone's voice, you just can't replay a phone call.
bEfOrE ~ AftEr
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