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Lou Romano Oct 2019
The subject of this email is as usual... subjective! Not sure there is actually a subject involved? I mean if I just ramble on about any old thing that crosses my mind, how would that be described as a subject. I submit that the "subject" line of all emails should be moved to the end of an email! That way we would have a better grasp of what the subject of the email truly is.

Better yet it should automatically prompt you to go to the subject line when you click "send" to fill in at that time. Maybe the email program should even give samples of possible subject lines based on google's interpretation of what you have typed in the body of the email. Better yet that program should just run automatically and impose a subject line based on the information in the message body after it is run through several psychiatric data bases and analyzed and a consensus has been reached...

Hmmm... Now I'm thinking that there should be a mind to keyboard interface so we can do away with all this time-consuming typing! And while we're at it why not add a chip in our brains that thinks for us and sends the data it receives directly to the keyboard interface... I mean think of all the time we would save not having to think any more!

Why stop there? We can also add emotion chips so that when we are letting our thinking chip talk for us we can also have the emotions that our emotion chip thinks we should be feeling automatically inserted into the email with the capability of it being felt by the emotion chip in the person whose thinking and keyboard interface chips are perusing the email written by our thinking and keyboard interface chips.

Ooooh now I'm really thinking... why not install mini SD drives in our brains so we can change the way we feel by simply inserting a new SD card? That way if we happen to read one of the emails thought out by our thinking chip, written by our keyboard interface chip, analyzed and consented to by the psychiatric data bases and given a subject and we decide that we want to change the way it is perceived by the thinking chip of the recipient we can simply insert a different emotion SD card into our SD drive and have those new emotions embedded directly into the email!

***! This is genius! Imagine the time we could save! I could just go on and on with this! The applications are limitless. Why hasn't someone thought of this before? Oh wait, what am I thinking... this is old news. This is called brainwashing and the government and every major company in the world has been doing it since the dawn of capitalism!

I'm going to stop now because I am no longer sure if the words I write are my own, or if they are just a bunch of noise created by the humm of all the post hypnotic suggestive clutter in my brain from years and years of commercial TV and slick politician abuse.

That's all I have time for this morning. I apologize in retrospect for the emotional agony I have put your brain through while reading this inane banter...
- Oct 2019
decline the call,
delete the e-mail,
ignore the speech,
ignore the message,
focus
focus on yourself and yourself only
Jiya Aug 2019
Hey.
Um.
I know this is a bit soon.
I process thoughts quite rapidly. A fatal flaw if you ask me.
I think I might take up your offer to chat.
Uh.
It’s complicated.
But, something made me realise it might be a good idea. Even though my first instinct is that it isn’t.
I may or may not explain later.
So uh, can we. Talk that is.
Whenever is cool.
I just…yeah.
I’ll stop rambling and actually send this.
Yeah…
An actual email I sent to my teacher about a year ago that looking back upon sounded quite poetic. And looking back upon it from the perspective of myself now I’ve realised how far him and I have come in our relationship and how he truely has become like a father and mentor to me as I truely love him with all my heart.
Letter Box: ‘Why does nobody comes this way’?

Me: ‘Maybe, they prefer an email’?

Letter Box: ‘Really? That means I am no more needed’.

Me: Not really! Maybe, they need you for registered posts only.’

Letter Box: ‘Well, what is an email’?

Me: ‘It is an electronic message that is instant moving from one gadget to another’.

Letter Box: ‘Oh, so it is faster than me. It is instant that is why I am discarded.’

Me:’ You are not discarded. You are just less used these days’.

Letter Box: ‘It is instant and faster but can one feel the touch of the paper? Can a mother touch the words written by her son and feel the warmth of his affection? Can a father embrace the letters drenched in his daughter’s tear who is miles away? Can all this be possible in an email’?

Me: ‘No, not at all. But you know what the world has changed now. And maybe, you did not notice. There are more people on gadgets than in the garden, where you are place’.

Letter Box: ‘I know as there are no footballs that hit me anymore. There is no one who looks at me – waiting for that one letter eagerly. They just pass by me – as if I do not exist. Oh, it hurts, it really hurts so much’!

Me: ‘You are still needed, and that is why you are still here.’

Letter Box: ‘Maybe, but still I wait for that football to hit me, and that postman to unlock. I still wait’!
Penguin Poems May 2019
Got an email from someone I thought I knew
Curious to know what we were up to
Clicked on the link, but it was just a ploy
To hack into my life and use me as a toy.

Broke into the hardware in my head,
Consumed my credit cards, ushered me into debt
Hacked into and manipulated all I felt
Controlled and restricted the hand I was dealt.

Even with my new passwords and new email
The scar of the hacker will never fully heal.
Blamed it on them being the stone cold *****,
But I’m the one who let them hack with a single click.
So I opened a link in an email from someone and my family got hacked so this is that but d e e p lol.
Rushil Dec 2018
I want to save this Princess from Zimbabwe --
because she tells me it is my destiny,
and it is all in the email she sent me.

I want to save this Princess from Zimbabwe --
because she possesses many Riches,
and she has promised me all of them.

I want to save this Princess from Zimbabwe --
from her wretched uncle,
who will steal her wealth and lock her away.

I would save this Princess from Zimbabwe --
but she only needs my Government ID,
Bank Account and Social Security.
Nupur Chowdhury Sep 2018
It’s good, but not what we’re looking for right now.
Oh, but it stings. And how!
The position’s closed, better luck next time
Your lips are bruised purple from that smile.

We loved it, but it doesn’t fit with our current line-up
You take a bitter sip of the salty tea-cup.
It’s good, dear, just not for me
You nod, you understand, ‘cause it ever is.

Your throat stings from not screaming loud enough,
Frustration the itch of a swallowed cough.
You’ve heard it a hundred times, and yet the hundred-and-first
Burns like every regret thrice reimbursed.

But while they wound, they aren’t nearly as bad,
As the radio silence of indifference ironclad.
Refreshed inboxes and double-checked call logs tell
The sordid tale of a dream drowning in the wishing well.

Vacancies disappear and resumes languish
Receptionists pout in parodied anguish.
It’s never you, it’s always them,
It’s never you’re-not-good-enough, it’s always not-the-right-fit.

It’s all the same, yet unique every time
Nobody’s got a minute, but asking’s not a crime.
It’s self-flagellation with a calling card
We don’t give a ****, best regards.

Your name’s not on this list, or the next one
And yet you walk, ‘cause you can’t outrun
The ghost of a dream, of a hope long gone
Of finding the happily-ever-after in life’s lexicon.
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