coming to terms
18/05/2010 § 1 Comment
Yesterday, I was sitting with STB in her room, just staring at all of her accumulated posters of shows — music shows, — her newly acquired bookshelf filled with paperbacks and jewel-cases, her other bookcase that sits perpendicular to the floor holding hoards of vinyl as well as holding up her music-players of sorts, an acoustic guitar lurked in the corner trying to hide in the piles of life memorabilia.
Despite the apparent chaos of stuff, I always feel calm and comfortable hanging out in that room. Perhaps it is STB’s hilarity that always brightens my mood, maybe it’s the constant flow of music, stuff I have yet to hear, cooing from the AM radio, maybe it’s the common tall can or bottle of wine offered upon entering her home. Whatever it is, it is what it is.
Recently, whenever I get back to wherever I am staying, whether it is at my sister’s apartment or my office (the library) up the street, as soon as I sit in front of my computer, I start feeling overwhelemed. Even though I have “things” to do online, I find myself trying to surf YouTube or various blogs just to keep in the know. However, whenever I turn my computer off, grab Graham Greene, and turn on CBC Radio 1, I breathe a sigh of relief at the sheer underwheleming feeling of it all.
I don’t know what it is, I tried everything and it still doesn’t feel right.
I taught myself how to type using all 10-digits and without looking at the keyboard. Where I succeeded in speed, I failed at inspiration. I used an iPod for a year-and-a-half — a gracious gift that I was incredibly grateful for — which I enjoyed immensely, it actually saved my soul many times. But, where I accomplished making playlists, I failed at getting it fixed or replacing it the day the music died in my hands. I purchased a digital camera, to upload pictures onto facebook, to instantly share moments of my life with someone 12,000 kilometres away. Even though I was able to figure out the uploads and had lots of fun for a couple of months, I still fell in love with an 1987 Minolta.
Point is, I just can’t seem to get it. I am able to navigate through technology, able to utilize it, but, apparently, I don’t know how to use it as a medium for any personal inspiration. I find myself perusing the internet aimlessly, lost in a net of information highways, overwhelmed and overconsumed. I can barely recall the synopsis of an article I had just read online, but I could tell you the top-five stories in last week’s newspaper I read over coffee.
So, I’m taking my simple life back, the one where my technological-record was always skipping and I didn’t care to notice.
The more I am into this web, the more I don’t feel myself and the more I want to be something that, frustratingly, I could never be. I always wished that I was technologically savvy, someone who is able to relish in today’s time of graphically designed domains, tumbling away on blogs, being comfortable with personal devices of incredible intuition. I admire how quickly the youth adapt to tomorrow: it’s evolutionary and the natural path to progression. Honestly, I wish I had that yearning, mostly so I didn’t feel like such a neanderthal when talking about up-and-coming music or current, subcultural issues. The storks forgot to put that in my package.
For the longest time, I stubbornly forwent facebook and cellphones, knowing that I would find them utterly fascinating but would end up lost in cyberspace and being sucked in by airwaves. Sometimes I find that my head can’t process all of the information, these busy bits of bytes flying into my brain at unbearable speeds. I am almost 25 years old, and I can’t handle online magazines, even though they make so much sense. Despite their practicality, my brain cannot digest anything that I read on the screen. I find that when I read something, I need it to be a sensory experience: I need the touch of the page, the smell of the ink, the words that do not scroll, but flip. When I write something, I need to cradle a pen in my hand, to feel the scraping of metal-on-paper, to scratch a line through a whole paragraph adding character of my notebook. Life feels simpler when I do that. Right now, life feels too hectic.
Therefore, it is with a heavy heart, that I will be limiting my posts to once-in-awhile. I have been spending too much time on trying to think of things to share, instead of creating things I feel. I will maintain my online sites, for my random reviews and obvious observations, but to tell you the truth, this world has kept me from the things I love the most: books and thinking and paper. I can no longer live like this.
Farewell cruel virtual world! Until next week.