messages – Pure and Simple

If your future self could send you one sentence, what do you hope it would say?

I dozed off after a long, hot, busy day, until a cool breeze wafted towards me.

Before I opened my eyes, I heard a voice, my own voice, speaking to me.

‘Hey there, I’m your future self.’

I didn’t respond; ‘this is a dream,’ I whispered.

My voice gave a light laugh.

‘Listen they just told me to send you a message.’

‘Who told who?’ I asked, wondering why the cool breeze had disappeared. ‘Did anyone shut the window.’ I wondered.

‘WordPress told me, your future self, to send you a message.’

‘WordPress… it will be still there in the future?’

‘Yes, it will. And now just let me deliver the message before I forget it.’

‘Message from you, or from WordPress.’

‘Of course from me, your own future self.’

The cool breeze wafted back, and just before I dozed off again, my future self whispered into my ears and said:

“Write more. Write every day. Your writing will shine, day after day.”

When I woke up, my future voice was still echoing in my ears.

Perhaps it’s a nudge to write something today.

Or maybe it’s a good omen.

With my-future-self thoughts,

Nahla

Scour the news for an entirely uninteresting story. Consider how it connects to your life. Write about that.

This is the latest news on Pure and Simple Channel, which nobody seems to care a whit about. This is likely because the term “mail service” is no longer in use in today’s world.

Here’s the news; There’s a widespread complaint about mail service across the globe. It claims: “Since the postman left, there hasn’t been an honest message.

Have you heard this piece of news?

Well, it’s just come to my attention that the news was just a saying—or perhaps a quote. FYI, in case you decide to look it up.

Anyway, isn’t that saying or quote so true and insightful?

How is the postman doing in your place?

Well… in mine, the postman shows up once a week, if not longer, and delivers mostly ads, bills, and donation bags. Worse still, it seems no one looks forward to seeing him anymore. Oh, the poor man and the mail posts have become old-fashioned on the road to extinction.

Now, what do you think we’ve been missing since the postman left?

Perhaps the design of the stamp, the scent of the paper, the genuine affections in the words, the smile hidden behind those brief greetings, the longing in between the lines, the long details, the casual sentences, and the unique signature at the end.

In other words— when the postman left, the letter lost its pure and simple message.

With hope and peace,

Nahla

Tag: messages

Was it a dream, or a good omen?

The Extinction of Mail Service