Here are five more words. Five-word sentences are fine. But several together become monotonous. Listen to what is happening. The writing is getting boring. The sound of it drones. It’s like a stuck record. The ear demands some variety.
Now listen. I vary the sentence length, and I create music. Music. The writing sings. It has a pleasant rhythm, a lilt, a harmony. I use short sentences. And I use sentences of medium length.
And sometimes, when I am certain the reader is rested, I will engage him with a sentence of considerable length, a sentence that burns with energy and builds with all the impetus of a crescendo, the roll of the drums, the crash of the cymbals–sounds that say listen to this, it is important.
"blood is thicker than water" doesn’t mean that the bond between blood relatives is stronger than friends. The blood refers to freely chosen "blood brothers" and the water refers to the water in your mother’s womb. So that phrase is actually saying the bond between the people you choose is stronger than the bond between the family you were born into which you had no control over.
A question that’s been posed to teenagers by their science or philosophy teachers since probably before the Cold War—probably before the French Revolution: If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?
Now, if I do something other than eating Domino’s and watching Netflix, and I don’t post it on Facebook, Tumblr, Instagram, and/or Twitter, does it really happen?
Today, my phone died during my hike and RunKeeper didn’t track the final two miles. I didn’t take any photos of the multiple deer sightings or interesting plants (like cacti flowers) along the trail for Instagram. (Although, I am writing about climbing a tree leaning over the Hudson River—picking the ripe mulberries and pelting the geese circling below with the unripe ones—on Tumblr right now. Being the gluttonous mallards that they are, of course they didn’t give a damn about indignity and greedily gobbled up the berries floating on the water.)
At some point, however, I actually contemplated that, perhaps maybe, the reality of my Saturday afternoon might have been diminished in some way by the lack of accompanying social media evidence. It was a fleeting feeling, but the fact that this thought had even occurred to me lingers on my mind.
Is this peer pressure about not sharing my life to the same extent that some other people curate theirs on social media? Is this a creeping paranoia that, without a digital carbon copy, my memories would fade away and these moments would be lost? And what does it mean that I’m questioning about social media, on social media?
I thought I’d dislike the ads that Yahoo started placing on my Tumblr dashboard. (Yahoo acquired Tumblr about a month ago, and has started monetizing the website.) But I’m actually enjoying this new ability to not only like posts by people I follow, but also express my dislike and disdain for posts by people I don’t follow. It’s quite satisfying, really.