Correspondence
Just looking through a bunch of old letters I received from my school friends during my first year at uni, ‘95. There are none from the following year: suddenly, all our correspondence was electronic, and that’s all fucking long lost, now.
Additional: For some reason I’m amazed that we used to write proper letters to eachother, letters of one to eight pages in length, handwritten, with the sending address and date in the top right corner, purely for fun or friendship. Incredibly, I can’t imagine spending that much time or effort on friendship now. Perhaps friendship isn’t as important to me these days, or I am lazier than before, but I know neither is the case. It’s just that my affections have become diffused, unreal, dissipated: so I suppose real friendship isn’t as important to me as it used to be. But then I’m not one of those people who mail cakes to people they meet online.
This entry was posted on Tuesday, March 27th, 2007 at 1:01 AM and filed under New stuff. Trackbacks are closed.
I find it really hard to write proper letters nowadays. I think it’s because I don’t store things up any more. When I used to write letters, I would save nuggets of information and add to the letter as I thought of them. Now I just rattle off a quick email or blog and then forget about it.
Posted on 27-Mar-07 at 4:13 am | PermalinkI’m fifteen years your senior and the same thing happened to me in 1981. Only a few incriminating letters from ex-girlfriends (for my wife to wave at me) after that point. So I would have to go with: It’s just that my affections have become diffused, unreal, dissipated. Also quite descriptive of my attention span.
Posted on 27-Mar-07 at 6:41 am | PermalinkAnd thanks for the cake, but I’m a pie man.
Katcha: it always was hard to write proper letters; that’s what made them special.
OOC: how come my exes never write to me?
Posted on 02-Apr-07 at 8:15 am | PermalinkI used to write to a cousin of mine who lived in Germany. The magic went out of it one day when, suddenly enthused by the possibility of actually typing a letter using our computer with its dot-matrix printer, I excitedly copied my letter into the rudimentary word-processing programme and printed it out, only to find that what I had to send, when not falsely expanded by the effect of my incomprehensible handwriting, took up the space of a small compliments slip. I just couldn’t send it, yet I had nothing else to say.
Posted on 04-Apr-07 at 1:23 pm | Permalink