At the beginning of this week I contemplated my wasteful habits, a thought that also looked back on an earlier entry examining the reasons I don’t care to change them. Those habits revolve around opting for paper versions of items that can all be consumed and enjoyed electronically at this point in time, using up not only the pulp harvested from trees to create those products but also requiring physical transport and thus contributing to the emissions of primarily the trucking industry.
This habit is more than just books and photographs. Right now I’m away from my home for purposes of playing with dogs while their owners are taking a break from getting shed on incessantly. I did not bring a pad of paper with me, thinking that I did bring books to read to pass the time, and my computer for any sort of creative process of putting down ideas that will never get turned into something real. I don’t have any particular ideas at the moment, aside from this specific craving, so I wouldn’t have anything comprehensible to write, but this is a frequent urge I have to literally put pen to paper and not much else. I could find paper in this house, I know there’s an ample supply. But it’s not my paper. What would I do with it afterwards? What would be the value of stealing paper from someone else?
So I’m trying typing instead. Sadly, through no fault of the venue or the audience, it is immensely non-satisfying. I’m not going to call it unsatisfying because it’s taking nothing away. It’s asatisfying – neither nor, outside of the satisfying-unsatisfying spectrum yet still only measurable that way. There is something to be said about the grace at which I can type without even looking at the keyboard or the screen (right now staring at the exhausted dog across the room), but it’s a moot point when the craving is through a pen. I wonder when physically writing turned from a tool to an addiction. I wonder if I will ever get over it, worrying that in a dystopian (but certainly not khristopian) future paper will be abolished by some sort of totalitarian cyberpunk militia whose leader has gone through this same problem so many times that he felt he needed to conquer the world to get rid of it. But that won’t work. Those who have written things down when they had ideas have already spread that lesson…but even they probably craved paper a thousand times with no ideas before those stories came out.