a love letter to my laptop:

oh dear, dear computer. how i love you. you heat my room up and my heart also. you hum quietly in such a delightful way. you keep all my photos safe and you house little msn messenger-shaped versions of my friends. you fix my spellnig i mean spelling. you are incredibly good-looking, ever-stylish in your silver all-seasons coat.

when you wake up you make a 'beBEEP' sound that sends shivers down my spine and makes stuff go all rainbowy and butterflyed.

you are selfless. sometimes you write blog entries for me, and though i take credit for them you know that the sharpened wit and superior vocabulary of your linguistic efforts blow my pathetic entries away, and your monitor glows a little brighter with contented pride.

sometimes the caps lock key jams but that's just one of your little quirks, and it endears you to me all the more.

what can i say? i devote myself to you. my love is manifest in instant messages and internet idling. i give you my time, my days and nights. i give you my finger muscles and i give you my glazed eyes.

i am taking the time to set down my feelings for you in order to prevent any misunderstandings.
because there have been things said in your presence that you may have found hurtful. things that, dare i say, may have inspired you to open windows a little slower and to skip a couple of beats during my favourite songs and, even, to refuse to block flashing pornographic pop-ups and spam email promising free medication and instant university degrees.

but i didn't mean it. i swear it.

i don't really worry that my love is turning into an obsession.
i don't really worry about the fact that i automatically turn you on as soon as i enter my room, regardless of whether i miss you or want to see you, or not.
i don't really resent the hours you eat up.
i don't really feel any back pain because of you.
nor do i believe that i will soon be chair-shaped for eternity.
i don't really wonder if you are a blessing or a curse.

and most importantly, i feel i must ally what is surely your greatest fear.

i am not, definitely not, enjoying turning the pages of the books stacked next to you more than i am enjoying clicking your links of infinite delight. i am not re-discovering my love of reading words on paper. i am not sick of eye-tiring text on your elegant screen.

please don't be jealous, my love.

i am ever faithful.

sincerely yours,
alix.