Thus, in letters, I am a dinosaur when it comes to surfing the waves of technology. If we do, just with the computer I managed to cover the a, b, c of these issues, more reluctantly than for any other reason. I still have the old Olivetti at the bottom of the window, with rusty keys and occasional attacks of nostalgia almost makes me rescue it from misuse and cobwebs. These days a friend arrived with his stories. After four beers gave us time to talk about where, which García Márquez, were happy and undocumented. Rafael remembered, Laura, Maria Luisa, that skinny breasts and hips incendiary skyscrapers. I remembered the college days, this time hugging the day to day, Carpe Diem Horace, just when the horizon is the exact size of seventeen. Then he spoke of Facebook. He invited me to Facebook. The type sewed well, he did at the right time and right place. One, who prefers to listen to the radio with the radio, watching TV with your TV, and use as an agenda these notebooks sold in regular stores reason why it ends with his back to cell as offering these services all in one, say, yo I am a Stegosaurier king in the digital age, I eventually gave in to the memory, easy as pie to the fact revive the decades gone by, and I said yes. The next morning
enjoyed the Face on my computer. I learned to use emotion, put photos, cousins, colleagues from the university, one that other guy, all over again confirm our friendship through the miracle of the chips. My wife could not believe what was in front. Then the pink
became more opaque. Rafael did not show up in any way Laura stepped in my searches. Maria Luisa, the skinny old, looked at the screen with thirty-two kilos more, four children and a husband, and I to these heights wrecked in the ocean of uncertainty and sadness. Is that all the past was better.
One morning I received the greeting of that degenerate that I lost a girlfriend, and another that ended up being a common crook. From Facebook, so earnestly present in the everyday life of today, the truth is I would rather stay well away, because a dinosaur is a dinosaur, and the rest is bullshit. It was a tragedy. I thought in such beautiful people, in so many acquaintances whose faces had almost forgotten by the grace of time and its turns. I do that with my heart in your hand every day waiting for me to cope with an atmosphere disappeared, gone for decades, full of freshness on all four sides, I found the horror got on my computer. Of course. People who would not stand the sight of women who left me for another, doomed I sawed some place, lovely mermaids now transformed into its opposite, every time out like rabbits, do not know where the hell, inviting me, calling me, rejoicing because after so long, oh, Roger, thanks to this wonder to finally come back to you. I were mad.
Fortunately I am a dinosaur, that's more than proven. I prefer the old radio with my cellphone of the year of the pear. And Facebook. Oh, and without the blessed Facebook.
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