as to me, i leave here tomorrow for an unknown destination-ambrose bierce 1913, old writers never die, they just fade away, at least that’s how wikipedia says it happened, but what do we really know? stories replicate stories, screens duplicate screens, people pretend to know, and someone, somewhere, used to know something, bierce disappeared in mexico, that has been proven, but not by screens, rather, letters, paper, parchment, something that was held, not just screen seen, everyone has their secrets, even with all the camera phones, tracking cookies, and incessant internet, we all still get to have a little bit of bierce mystery, we all end up in an unknown destination, eventually.
Tag: Authors
Reading & Billie Eilish
some question the point, why not just watch a screen, text, talk on the phone. why leave friends to immerse with already dead authors? why visit streets where horses pull carriages and fast food doesn’t exist? paper pages, turning them, what a chore. who wants to detach, disconnect from internet, iphone, streaming shows, online shopping? yet, somehow this has become me, always was me, by fireplace, under quilts, narnia, watership down, the hobbit, the color purple, quiet moments, alone, reading, reading, reading, imagination, walking with holden caulfield, questioning the phonies, the ones feeding us cookies, tracking our every electronic move, urging us to fear the next disaster- to quote billie eilish, when reading a book, no one can hurt you.
Daniel W. Polk 