I...I'm sorry.
I'm weak.
I want a computer at home.
Y'see... I was doing so well in my sudden impulse to resist technology in my personal life. No TV (that one's easy), no computer, a clock radio and granted as soon as I get my hands on my CDs it'll be stereo time but even my laundry I'm doing by hand and yet...
...I have so much more time on my hands.
No computer games, no prime time brain drain, I've been finding myself curled up on my golden monster of a couch with book after book after sewing kit after book, juggling in the luxurious empty spaces in my living room where there is no need for a desk.
When I have katas to practice again, I will have room and time to practice them.
In the evenings, I have time to cook elaborate dinners, Saturday's basil-and-green-olive pasta sauce and Sunday's tomato-and-cumin slightly indian-bent capellini and last night's outright lamb korma and biryani.
In the morning, it only takes me a half hour to wash the lenghtening locks of my hair, no e-mail to check and million fewer websites to read irrelevent information from and suddenly I realize that it isn't the act of wearing make-up to work that makes my mornings seem high maintenance.
The lack of a computer-and-cigarette break before and after my shower barfs up entire free minutes.
I have time to brew a proper tea for my breakfast now.
And yet...
...I want a computer. I miss spending evenings playing with mp3s, finding them, changing them, constructing my own 45M symphonies or requiem and 21st Century Digital Boy.
Alright, I only did that once. But still, I could write elongated e-mails to my princess every evening so that she could come home to find me thinking of her.
And yet in reality wouldn't it be better to write her, and everyone else, carefully crafted letters on paper perfumed with my latest manifestation?
I returned to France to find what was left in me of the old country.
I returned to France to find a balance for the part of me that screams geek and drools at the sight of Star Wars card games.
I returned to France to remind myself that convenience is the purpose of technology, that technology itself is not a purpose.
Researching it, yes. Drowning in it in places, even, so that the research is pure.
But somewhere inside, despite wanting to implant wires in my head for faster download, I don't want to lose the magic of memorizing a poem line by line.
And somewhere inside... There are a million things boiling, mais pour l'instant, I am pushing against the median in my life to see how far I can stretch and what shape I can best leave it lying in.