Pens and Paper

I doubt anyone will notice, but there has been in this blog a leitmotif of "my computer exploded", and all the adjustments I've had to make in response.

Today I've gotten reacquainted with good old-fashioned pen-and-paper scribbling on the subway, rocking and rolling in a half-drunken stupor, scrawling down sentences resembling free-flowing robes in my indecipherable pseudo-cuneiform sewing-machine script. And, of course, every time the train accelerates or turns, my hand flies from the tiny pad. I think I should try this somewhere stationary, like a coffeehouse or a library, but then I'd just be approached by some chirpy extroverts in stylish multicoloured scarves using my scribbling as a conversational "in". Not that that will happen, but if it does, I'll end up a nervous wreck, unable to both write and speak, just staring dumbly out of the large wall-panes at the time-lapse bustle outside.

Stolen thought of the day: "the meaning of life is the survival and perpetuation of ribonucleic acids and their associated proteins."