Open letter to the Odyssey: a chorus of voices
Dear Odyssey,
You, journey to nowhere, you, epic beautiful Grecian scheme, I'm sorry, but it's just not going to work out. In our world this everyday keyboard computer box world constantly inundated with media and news and words of all sorts – I, writer type, have chosen to jump ship and call it quits. This trip is really not for me and I wish you the best. It was, while it lasted, an extremely interesting insight into where news now finds its home. The direction in which media currently flows, however, seems to be skewed to a degree that I had not anticipated. But considered me edified.
I’ve been shown the strangest and freest speech of all and I choose now to close to my eyes and turn my head at the sight. I've changed my mind. Not out of spite or anger at the way things work but out of, probably, misplaced pride for things that are solely mine. This is not where I want to share all of my personal thoughts. This is not where I want to see myself read. This just isn't the place for me. It was a nice outlet for just a little while, don’t get me wrong. And there are many wonderfully written words by talented people, floating in here everywhere you look, but I must desist. I am grateful for the opportunity to read, and see the way our modern minds spin. Thank you all for that, but I can no longer partake.
Before I go, I must say, that above all things that this event, this beep on the clichéd old electrocardiograph machine of life has showed me, is that I don’t have anything newsworthy to say. To even put five hundred words on this screen has been a taxing task in itself. Now, maybe I just haven’t found the place that forces me to shake the cerebral limbs and pull the words from deep and unforgiving places. Or maybe I truly have nothing to say via this binary story spitter. Hopefully the former finds itself true, but if the latter shines through then I guess there are much more severe things that could happen in life than not having anything to say on the internet.
So when all is said and done, and this article has been read, or glanced over, or neglected completely, I want you (you reader, you glancer, and even you, you negligent share neglector) to understand that this is a sweet goodbye, a fond digital farewell to a thing that I am ultimately thankful for, and surprised by.
I also want you to know that in order to meet my word goal, my quota quid pro quo, that I needed to suffer and ramble and spill unnecessary, and uninteresting, meaningless, newsless, nuanceless sentences like this one in order to find five hundred and sixty five words, exactly.
So as all those dolphins said before me, so long and thanks for all the fish.
Sincerely,
C. G. Hadsell
(My third and final article, because all good things come in threes.)
