2014-02-20 To L.

it went off

she is not here

she is not now and she has not been

she could be dead right now

or have been

you were talking with pixels

with a screen

it was a recording

in its due time

time

Hi L.,

The phone just went off and I wanted to continue talking to you. For this reason, I am writing (by hand, obviously).

The first thing that came to mind was the verses you just read. That is why they are the first written thing, it is a reliable and chronological representation of the handwritten sheet of paper.

At the time the phone was turned off, I was close to feeling anxiety and concern that I could not continue talking to you. But now I’m doing it. I feel like I’m communicating with you. I feel better. I have simply had to overcome the first instinct of inactivity or search for technological contact with you. I have started writing.

Even if I am writing this letter at night, you may read it tomorrow, in a week, or in a month. When I want to send it to you, if I send it to you. You may reread it in years and each time it will be different for you. You will be able to read this letter if I die before you and it will appear that I am speaking to you. (This is how I just beat death. This letter is my song … (Tweet in English. Food for thought, isn’t it?))

Poetic parenthesis.

… And I will leave. And the birds will stay

singing;

and my garden will remain, with its green tree,

and with its white well.

Every afternoon the sky will be blue and placid;

and they will play, as they are playing this afternoon,

the bells of the bell tower.

Those who loved me will die;

and the town will become new every year;

and in the corner, that of my flowery and whitewashed garden.

my spirit will wander, nostalgic …

And I will go away; and I’ll be alone, homeless, treeless

green, without white well,

without blue and placid sky …

And the birds will stay, singing.

Wild poems (1910-1911). Juan Ramón Jiménez. (Jiménez 1970)

This is what technology has demolished. Haste has wiped out patience. The wait, the tasting of the moment, the pleasure of the non-immediate … The enjoyment of one’s own personality, of internal communication. Ultimately, life itself.

I don’t want to continue writing, so you start doing it. But this little letter/reflection is clear proof of the benefits of writing and the harmfulness of digitized communication. In a few lines and almost without arguments.

Now, I start reading. I’m much more relaxed than I was five minutes ago when the phone went off. Also, writing this seems much more real to me than sending you a WhatsApp : “* I’m fine*”. Although it will take days, hours or years to send it to you, or you to read it, for me it has been much more immediate than a WhatsApp.

Good night.

A huge hug.

P.S. You know I would like to hear from you. (General and extremely open question that you can answer with the degree of detail and specificity that you want). If you want to just write to me that you are fine, I will believe it and continue my life placidly. Taking advantage of my time knowing that L. is happy. Lying to me is lying to yourself.

References

Jiménez, Juan Ramón. 1970. Tercera Antolojı́a Poética (1898-1953). Vol. 2. Editorial Biblioteca Nueva.