Reeling between aloneness and togetherness. I am not panicked. I am excited by the places where the two worlds meet. Postmodern trickery on the page would make little to no sense if Google hadn’t changed the way we read. Last night a tweet-up saved my life.
pages. written. musty library books. overdue fines. rainy day curling up with coffee and. lining shelves. procrastinating by alphabetizing. holding a secret in my hands. my own copy. book shop. dreams – one day I’ll have my own. running out of room for. exchange. hunting op shops for. I’m feeling down, can you bring me a? lying in the sun reading. notes in margins. inherited notes in margins of second hand copies. judging by a cover. judging by embossed lettering and quality of paper. dog-eared pages. book art. perving on commuter’s reads. bags full of. café corner. lending etiquette. physical copy signed by physical author at physical launch. smell of pages, pages, pages.
www. one click. hyperlink. interactive fiction. free classics. twenty-three books in a 7×5” space. poetry slam via video link with some guy in Finland. narratology of WOW. screen caps of everything everything. @hashtag. like comment share. send it to me. networking on the network. saying something while pointing elsewhere (see: book art, above). sparknotes saving students worldwide. 99c publication. leave a comment. twitterature. inbox me. she popped up. pingback.
”One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words.”
One ought, every minute at least, Youtube, Tweet, Instagram, and if it were possible, Skype.
Reeling between aloneness and togetherness, and I am happy at this impasse.