Sunday, January 14, 2018

Word Clouds

I miss my old typewriter that took everything I had to give and reliably mirrored it back at me--typos and all.

Now we live on and in computers, where ideas are reshaped and replaced and even stricken almost before we’ve finished thinking them. 

I’m bothered by where all the letters go that I mistakenly type outside the designated boxes--when my screen doesn’t capture what my careless fingers fling at it. 

Do these mistyped fragments of instructions, queries, reflections, and heart-deep secrets careen down some cyber rabbit hole as they miss their marks? 

Do they slam into a cyber wall and disintegrate into the ether, or drift like marooned astronauts, raising a serif as they float past each other searching for an appropriate word cloud? 

Perhaps they accumulate in nonsensical clusters, not unlike much of my input that actually reaches its destination more or less intact. I prefer to think they swirl in an alphabet cyber soup where they stir themselves into the true meaning of life and that someday I’ll get a taste.

#cyber #cybertalk #alphabetsoup #typewriter #typos #meaningoflife


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