Techno? No Tech!

Thundercats on the boob tube.  Ben Bridwell wailing in my ear-buds.  The light was flickering from the dying light bulb.  The pain in my lower back was agonizing, but not enough to make me stop me in my mission.  I drank tepid water from a glass that had sat near the screen for a long time.  Stale Cheez-Its got up and walked away they had been neglected for so long.

My fingers still flew across the keyboard, typing out thoughts that nobody would ever truly be interested in.  My brain was racing through things I knew were brilliant but in reality would be laughed at by grade school kids.  True love meant never falling out of love or you never loved that person to begin with?  Pah, what a load of garbage, just get wrecked totally by a person, far enough to push you to try drinking yourself to death.  You’ll find that love can stop all right.  You’ll find that hate can be born very quickly for someone you did in fact love with all your heart.

I yearn for the days of no computers, no TVs, no radios even.  I wish I had been born many decades earlier.  I hate the technology I rely on for so many things.  I need it, want it, love, but hate it all the same.  I loathe how people lean on it so easily.  They don’t let their brains work, and by failing to exercise their memories, they become stupid and frail mentally.  The internet and smart phones are a crutch for the modern world.  I remember when a speak and spell was the bees knees.

I want to write by hand, but am afraid to try for fear of the pain in my past broken arm and wrist.  I love books, and the feel of pages under my fingers.  I hate the sight of e-readers, but need one to further the hope for the continued love of reading.  The spaceship minds of the current youth will not be bothered by books in their hands.  They can barely be bothered to read a title in passing.  I want to find a time machine.  I want to leave and go somewhere else.

Why bother?  Nobody cares.  Only love means anything.  Only the look in the eyes of the little one we borne counts.  Only the touch of a wife whose heart remains true gives me the will to keep walking.   I lay down and close my eyes and know I’ll wake up the next day.  Why would my suffering end just because I need it to?  I am bent to suffer for them.  They need me to go on, in pain, in health, with no hearing or with, head pounding or not, I need to keep up.

Love is all that matters.  Love is the only thing I lean on, the only crutch that exists.  When found, it is all that is worth holding onto.  I’m done, sorry for my view on the world.  No I’m not.  Sorry for your view on the world.


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