a(nother) thing(s) i like about typewriters they’re not people talking about what they will or won’t eat it kind of doesn’t matter what age they are they’re acoustic they don’t give you carpal tunnel syndrome or shine blue lights in your eyeballs they (almost) just sit there until you need them again (but you can’t neglect them completely or they freeze up) they don’t have anywhere to be right now they glow with the candlelight after the candle is gone they don’t try to get you to check your mail or texts or news or porn; they don’t have shit to say but they’re a damn good listener you don’t necessarily have to turn them on (but sometimes you can) they’re shaped like music they smell like oil they got a certain aura about them that makes me want to be in a room with them, a small, warm room with glowing windows and the salt smell of the summer suffusing the bare boards of the floor they’re good teachers but they take their damn time they can be finicky cranky stuck dried up or broken; they’re hard to find parts for and they literally don’t make them like they used to but what can i do i keep coming back they remind me of you