Snail mail

'What's your postal address?' A dear friend asked me this question a few days ago, and it produced an instant, heartfelt beam. Don't get me wrong. I'm a huge fan of electronic email. I don't think I would have survived these past few years living away from friends and family without the boons of Skype and email and instant messaging. Within a few seconds I can find out what all 'my' people are cooking in different corners of the world, or if someone is having a bad day, or share a song or article that I like and get immediate feedback. The physical presence of the person might not be there, but you could be face to face sharing the details of your day over a coffee - that's how gloriously immediate communication is today. But getting something in the post? That's a whole other delicious experience entirely. The joy of tearing open an envelope, and reading something handwritten, that's just for you... I don't believe anything in the world feels quite like that. The moment I receive a letter or postcard, I carry it around for days, just to glimpse some inky letters or to have the sudden thrill of brushing against that paper thats all mine, all mine, as I go about my daily business. And when I get asked about my postal address, that means the excitement and anticipation of something coming to a postbox near me really soon. I can barely wait! Hurry up and post the damn thing already...

hashtag tweet hashtag like hashtag brain mush

I've allowed my brain to become mush. Now let's be honest: I've never been the most intelligent or outspoken or articulate of people, but if there was one thing I could do, it was write at length. Not quality, per se, but definitely quantity. That is no longer the case. Where once I could write about lots of nothing in endless paragraphs (pick any previous post on this blog for evidence), it has now become a chore to string one sentence together. I don't think I've composed a decent email or letter in over two years! The story is similar when it comes to reading - sometimes I have to remind myself that an article is more than its headline. Especially now, when the headlines in social media are a bunch of provocative carrot sticks leading one to a whole heap of nothing. Thankfully I'm not partial to the easy-to-read list type of articles... articles that tell you everything from how to clip nose-hairs to why being bad is... bad. Perhaps I don't have the attention span to read beyond item 'one' on a list. I blame myself for this lapse in my reading and writing skills. I became addicted to social media and instant messaging. While several people I know have managed to maintain their communication skills while using these things, I let myself slide into a downward spiral of non-sentence communication, only drawing the line (and haughtily so) at abbreviating to the extent I've seen people do, or shortening words for no good reason (as seen by me, in any case). Why would I write 'gal' when 'girl' will do? And honestly, if you want to wish me a 'had' (an 'hbd'?) don't bother... I'm not sure how much time or energy was saved by shortening 'happy birthday' in that way! I digress. While I didn't get to a very high level of simplification (I do use the 'lol' quite often), I stopped writing sentences... detail... meat... depth... substance. I allowed myself to reach a stage where every mode of non-verbal communication had - in my head - the urgency and required brevity of a tweet, a status update, a quick typing of an instant message. Gone are the days where I could drone on and on about my last cupcake (I'm sure several people are quite glad), and it has reached a stage where I can't find my words. I can't express myself, and it's pretty damn scary. This goes beyond the social media addiction, but it definitely is a big catalyst. I realised deeper dangers when I began using instagram just a few days ago... the pressure to hashtag everything, simplify and categorise had me thinking in snapshots and hashtags the whole day when I first started. It's my fault that I take things to a whole other extreme. I really doubt other people are making up hashtags for everything in their minds, but I guess I'm strangely wired like that. The day of the instagram was a bunch of warning bells in my mind. This stops now. This strange effect I'm allowing to my communication skills. Sorry world, but I'm forcing out the words. ‪#‎conqueringsocialmediaeffectonme