Search from various English teachers...
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connecting words (3)
I found the letter this morning. It was inside the last locker of the antique and outworn cabinet in an obscure and frighten room, were it used to be a bibliotheca. Everything went down since it came to a new evolution society, now called a digital-virtual society. I opened the locker and took a piece of paper inside the envelope. A tear fell down in silence above the trembling and confused hand. That text was passing through my mind like an arrow. Visualizing the scene where places, personages and objects were playing with me. It was under my skin; that was an emotion with bristles sensations in all over my body. It was like some moments ago, that I call very real transformation. Maria was sitting in a botanical park, four blocks from my house, near to an antique church. It was right away I left her when I moved to Cuba. She was writing with her tiny fingers a poem where I would touch with my lips. All my five feeling sensations were there. I was watching her hair bounding through the cold wind of autumn. Sited on a bench she was waiting for someone who could substitute this letter. But, she was too frightened and insecure to do this change. Maybe this will be her last letter...
You might call nostalgically pathetical feeling. I steel view ahead all of this things a human presence instead of static result.
What a strange sarcastic joke… It’s true, we’re not becoming robots but we are close to transform ourselves from homosapiens to homorobots or could you call better? It could be a human species in transition? What’s next? `
P.S.: Please correct my grammar.
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connecting words (2)
How long haven’t you write a letter on a real paper and send it to your friend, parent, girlfriend or anyone else?
Do you remember when was the last time you hold that paper in your hand and read the letter which was send it to you?
The interesting thing that it wasn’t such a long time ago, I still feel that pen in my hand writing through the pages, I sometime see that letter in my mind covered by a blue ink…
The time moves quickly. We change the time and we change ourselves.
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"internetions"
What's really happening?
Our lives are becoming more and more connected to an idea of “internet world”, such called a virtual world. We cannot hold and stop such amount of information. Are we becoming the slaves of our own invention...?
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start up (my first words connections on italki)
Initially I would like to start with an idea of writing, to which I put myself engaged at this moment. Maybe it’s a brainwriting or something like exposing the ideas into the paper, better known as a digital paper. It is what we are doing, using a computer device and connecting ourselves in thousands of millions of non-stop connections, now we call internet, but some short-time ago neither of these things exists...
These letters connects syllables, that connects words, that connects sentences, that connects ideas, that connects us: me, you and the hole world.
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