Let It Roll

So much love and life and art and humanity and beauty and time and creativity and god forsaken vanity is lost in the cell-phone-internet-instant-coffee-messaging-teleportation-electric-car-twenty-four-seven-news age. And here I am typing on a plastic computer; conveying my plastic thoughts that I only wish mattered more than they do. Why can’t things last anymore? What happened to the innocence and the mystery that made life a work of art? It is so predictable now; and when it is not, it is a story for five and half minutes or so, and we move on to the next. Oh how I cherish the cold feel of a fine book in my hand, the letters in print pop from the pages like Braille that I read with my eyes.