Thursday, August 6, 2009

involuntary mutism

Remember me? There was a time, not too long ago, perhaps around the eeew-aaahh advent of the miraculously wonderful world wide web version two point oh, when I never had a moment’s rest. Talk, talk, talk, that’s all you ever did. You would talk to your friends, coworkers, even select members of your family. Chatterbox, you were. And yes, at times you spoke like Yoda.

But you started blogging. You joined Twitter. Delicious. Diigo. And I hate saying that one, so if you ever choose to talk again, I’m okay if you don’t ever say that non-sensical, meaningless jib-knock of a word. Honestly, any other words with the double i? After Hawaii?

Didn’t think so.

You stopped calling people. Texting all the time. It seems, just from my unused point of view, that you’re afraid to talk. Too much commitment on the, proverbially speaking here, ‘line’. Sure, you’re not alone. You’re living in a terse, scatological world where everyone, at least people like you, mired in technology and education, promote communication in all forms digital. Not a lot of talk about, well, talking.

And that’s one venue, but with your friends and family? Honestly, I’d love to talk to them? Remember awkward pauses? Jokes…with punchlines? Maybe you should pick up the phone, the land-line one. It rings. Real rings.

Anyhow, just wanted to check in. And I had no choice but to meet you in your digital wheel-house. I despise typing. Everything here could have been delivered in a fraction of the time if we could just talk.

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