buddy

hey, buddy. 

i thought it might be fun to write you a new-classic missive, a take on the old-fashioned ways, but i wouldn't really be able to do that anyway, the true blue old-timey communication method, because my hands, after years of typing and penmanship neglect, from wrist to finger-tip, have become boneless mush. this is the up-to-date version of old-fashioned, which is to say, an email is today's "letter," do you know what i mean? i ask that and do not want an answer. 

she twists and she whirls, dismissing it all away... 

one way or the other, i suppose the above quote from a new wave classic is true, though i actually missed the entire thing when it came out, because i was lost in space - and here i am calling it a classic - and not only am i not missing the notion of dismissing it all away, i am, in fact, at the doorway of the closest antonym of dismissing it, which would be to engage. anyway, i have engaged in that song, dismissing it all away, because not only is it true, it sounds shiny. it sounds... magnificent. 

of course i wonder, what was i thinking? being "too gone" for something so pretty seems absurd, but then again, i was and am. is it such a surprise? nah. 

that can't be answered, but what i can tell you, if you ever want to know, beyond supposing, would be what it is i am thinking. i'll tell you that (those, i suppose, one way or the other) any day of the week in slow motion, painstakingly so, to the point where we are both desensitized by time and realize how silly and obscure momentum is. 

all is well, and i hope with thou. 

peace, 
ann