i know i want a typewriter. i say want because i don't need one, i can live the rest of my life without ever owning a typewriter and i will not feel like i have missed out on anything at all. this fact doesn't stop me from going into antique shops and staring adoringly at the oldest-looking one there. little sighs of typical, materialistic want flood my lungs and even if i can afford one, i walk out of the store empty-handed. as if i've had my fill just looking. just browsing. what a silly.
even if i owned one, would i use it? i would be afraid of  wasting the ink with my many mistakes. i have made countless just typing up this teeny post. but then i think go on! make mistakes and make amends later. there will always be a fresh sheet of paper that is just waiting to be messed up. i can learn to type slowly, i think. but i have issues with impatience where I MUST GET MY POINT ACROSS NOW AND IF I DON'T DO IT NOW, I MIGHT FORGET. i was in the middle of sorting mail at work when i thought about my random desire for an old typewriter and had to frantically grab a pen and write it on my memo pad.

kim will cover my break and read the memo and i'm sure she will raise an eyebrow but never ask me about it.
it goes like this exactly: "i know i want a typewriter. but i know i would just sit and stare at it and the protruding keys will stare back. i would be too afraid of making mistakes and wasting ink."

and that is all.