Real.

I've been reading this book and it has made me think about a lot. Does anyone realize how much we type? How much we neglect the talent of writing down our thoughts, keeping them, creating them? Creating. A poem, a song, a story. We can create, we have the freedom to do so, the freedom that not everyone has. It comes down to this, why is it so much easier for us to sit on a computer and write out thoughts of ours to the whole world, that it is to sit down on the top of a hill in the forest and write our thoughts on paper? Why don't we cherish what we have?