Tap, tap...

Every day, either morning or evening, watching the letters form on screen as my fingers skip over the smooth, black keyboard. The tap, tap and stop, time enough to think, although really it's so easy to think and type simultaneously as though the thinking and movement of the fingers is one & the same thing. Not much time lapse between cognitive activity and digital flex. We spend so much time now, don't we at the monitor, hunched over or attempting, as I do to sit up straight? This form of communication necessary because to be without a computer is to be virtually (unless you have an iPhone) out of touch. And speaking about touch, I'm sure we caress the keys more than we caress anyone else these days - the virtual arena has replaced physical contact.  But perhaps I'm just talking about myself. So much time given to the computer, so much time spent in making the tap, tap, tapping sound. Anyway, the sun is streaming through my lounge-room window and only a few sounds outside as though the world and everything contained within it, is still asleep. How could that be so, it's such a beautiful day (weather-wise) already?  Brushed my hand over my hair and at least twenty of them fell to the floor. Thin, silver-white threads on the gray carpet alongside tiny crumbs and other particles, which reminds me I really should get out the vacuum cleaner today. I have nothing to say really. It's spring and the flowers - bright pinks and reds & yellow decorate the abundant greenery, hang like baubles in the morning light.