Getting in touch with the blue screen of death can make you rethink your life as a writer. Would you still be one if you didn't have that friendly laptop with you everywhere?
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My dad bought me a wonderful notebook, he said Hemmingway used to use the exact same kind and that I should think of it as inspirational... I do. Right now everything seems that way.
I am according to my parents a swede. Born and raised at least for a while then moved about the globe and started being influenced by other places. Am I still a swede? I've just never felt less so.
I see these strained swedish people going about their business, never poking around or touching anything new. The color seems to be fading from them and I'm afraid they'll wake up tomarrow all alone and not even bother to wonder where that childlike amazement went.
Or am I just naive maybe?
Connecting this thought to my encounter with the blue screen of death yesterday, well it just made me think. With all these ideas and secret places in my head, all those thoughts in writing, in different languages, in different themes and styles, maybe that's what truly builds my nationality? Maybe my true nationality is my laptop or the new notebook. Maybe all I truly am is an observer of life and recorder of fates. Maybe my own life just serves as a default charactor.
In that case, I am neither writer nor swede. I'm an old fashioned dictafone.
On the other hand, this isn't a bad thing. Just a thought....
"Atlantic" -Melville Rude