Buried Alive

Bloggers, Unplugged

Sometimes, we all need a break from these little glowing boxes. How do you know when it’s time to unplug? What do you do to make it happen?

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I’ve been known to unplug my phone because I do believe it’s dangerous and I don’t know how to put it down and leave it down.

I use it as a way to avoid people, unwanted conversations and to look at pictures of my dog, Hamish Macbeth.

I like to do that whenever I’m in a rotten mood- which for the most part is most of the time  since my dogs died a couple of years ago- followed by family members and a friend.

Hamish Macbeth makes me smile.

And of course Facebook lives on my phone, it’s taken possession of my phone it probably needs an Exorcism.

My brother told me just to kill the App.

But I just can’t do it.

Māra

When  it comes to my laptop, how do I unplug from that?

Well, that’s simple.

I don’t.

I write on my laptop, I listen to music on my laptop  I actually work on it and for the most part it  aides me in my writing.

Plus my handwriting looks like I’m armless and probably hold a pen in my mouth so I don’t keep handwritten journals- which is a shame.

But there are times when I travel- and on all of those trips I take my laptop with me.

Stories have popped into my head when I’ve heard a name or caught a scent of food or rotted wood and I need to sit down and get it out because when that happens I don’t get part of the story- I get all of it.

So I have to be ready to go.

I love to write, I love to see what other people are writing and sometimes I like to go looking for pictures to use on my blog and in doing that I run across all sorts of cool information.

Like once I learned that there this forest in Japan infamous for the number of suicides that are committed there.

What happens there is very specific- people hang themselves there from the trees.

Sometimes they overdose.

But for the most part:

They hang themselves.

From the trees.

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I’m not sure I’d ever write about Aokigahara, but it’s story has creeped into my bones and I’m sure that one day it will find it’s way out again,

dress

Once it occurred to me that if my Laptop were alive, it must feel like it’s living in a nightmare it can’t wake up from.

The stuff I write and the things I save on it are pretty morbid so I almost unplugged from it once because that thought came out of nowhere and it bothered me.

But I got over it.

It probably has too.

Maybe.

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2 thoughts on “Buried Alive

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