I have not been texting for long. As a rambunctious sixteen year old, all I wanted to do was text. The problem here is that my mothers cell phone plan didn’t include texting so I was forced to talk on the phone and I hated it. It was not until a year ago where I discovered the wonderful world of texting. This world crumbled after a month or so. Every conversation I text seemed to cause an argument between my significant other and myself. The funny thing is I was not even upset when writing the damn thing. Her reading, of my writing, caused this debacle. Texting became my enemy.
Whenever I tried to call her she would be “busy” and not pick up. Yet a few minutes later I would receive a text. Now, a rocket scientist I am not, but smarter than a fifth grader, yes I am. It seems to take more time to write a text, then it would to answer the phone. Am I the only one seeing this point or am I truly blinded in an age dominated with fingers instead of lips and tongues. Well I say put the fingers down and lift those lips to the receiver and proclaim our stage in society once again!
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