Lately I've been away from home. I haven't had the chance to meet my family, some of my friends, people I simply feel close to. We talked sporadically.
These months have been quite intense and many times I felt the sudden urge to sit in front of my laptop and jot down my thoughts. I wanted to fix them. Other times instead I wanted to communicate them to some special people that are somehow part of me and my life, even if they are so far away.
I'm a quite impulsive guy and I tend to type everything on my soon-to-be crashed computer and send emails. It all happens very fast.
Here I have rediscovered the pleasure of writing letters. It seems to me that one's handwriting is much more personal and real. Recognizing somebody's signs on paper is just intimate and gives me joy.
This is what I first thought this morning when I picked up the mail that slipped through the door.
These months have been quite intense and many times I felt the sudden urge to sit in front of my laptop and jot down my thoughts. I wanted to fix them. Other times instead I wanted to communicate them to some special people that are somehow part of me and my life, even if they are so far away.
I'm a quite impulsive guy and I tend to type everything on my soon-to-be crashed computer and send emails. It all happens very fast.
Here I have rediscovered the pleasure of writing letters. It seems to me that one's handwriting is much more personal and real. Recognizing somebody's signs on paper is just intimate and gives me joy.
This is what I first thought this morning when I picked up the mail that slipped through the door.
No comments:
Post a Comment