This morning, as it looked to rain––after a quick walk with Effie, and on a whim––I decided to print out on index cards some text messages I had sent to friends this week & set them up around the apartment to Instagram.
(This is what other people do on rainy summer mornings, right? I mean: I feel other people have done this, too.)
Text messages just sometimes feel so unintentional; not like letters. But I cherish the texts I receive from friends; sometimes I find myself, during spare moments, re-reading them like letters I tote around in my pocket. It also doesn’t hurt that I have such poetic pals.
(But I would never share your messages on here. Those are just for us; only ours.)
Anyway; I’m off to Rita’s art reception tonight. Like a dutiful paparazzo, I will be sure to snappy-snap some pics.