Friday, May 13, 2005

Do you recall how, over the brief span of spring break, your penmanship would atrophy? The very concept of ink, for me at least, was as foreign as the vacation spots I should’ve visited but didn’t. When I returned to classes, writing felt awkward and forced, requiring at least a week to become routine again.

That’s one of the pleasures of talking to you, dear reader, because although there’s the convenience of using Open Office and a satisfaction culled from the clickety-clack of a keyboard, paper just feels right. Who knew there could be reassurance in less than a millimeter’s thickness?

Even so, no matter how laudable a medium becomes, the content’s gotta exist first and foremost, and in that respect Muse and I have grown apart lately. Are we on speaking terms? Yes. Writing terms? No, and there’s the painful rub. I think it may be time for a vacation.