Free Write Every Day: #6

Well, I remembered to write all my posts for my assignment... even if I forgot to post the last one here... oops.
Anyways, I am taking a week-long "fast" from social media for a week, so if you're looking for an update in the next 7 days, sorry but it might be awhile =) But really, let's be honest, my blogging is sporadic at best anyways.
Last free writing assignment, I actually attempted to get creative with style and form before letting my time-crunch, procrastinating, gotta get it over with ways kicked in:

Sunday February 26 11:00pm
I’m currently back in Richmond and unpacked from a fun and refreshing trip to see the family. I’m surprised that I have not used this writing time more creatively but have merely used it as a journal or reflecting space for myself.  I have never spent time trying to cultivate a writing to this extent before so I guess I fell back on a default of writing as a reflection, or subjective report of events.  I’m going to try something else for the rest of today (the last day’s) entry.
Words or short phrases relating to the weekend:
technological detox, glittering blackness, reunion of friends, paleontological diets, she spoke with the adroit word choice and the cattiness of a roommate and almost friend, laughing while feeling a deep uneasiness, further motivation to regularly exercise: swimsuit shopping in February, exhausted and sore yet feeling like I accomplished very little, with the camera as a shield protecting mt from unwanted conversation, I ventured into the throng of people.
Meta-ReflectionSince that was harder than I thought and the deadline is short approaching (as well as the knowledge I must awake in less than 7 hours, I will strive for a mixture of quantity, quality, and ease to finish this last entry of the week before searching for reflections to share or writing a new one. I guess I never had really paid attention to how much of my writing is never manifested due to the delete/backspace button.  I used to wonder what happened to the used and then discarded letters.  Since they are a digital projection onto a screen, there is never any proof over what once existed, unlike writing by hand or typewriter, where the tell-tale trace of white-out at least belies the effort a writer undertook to adjust what was written. this can be sort of a metaphor for life in the digital age.  Photos are taken, reviewed, and deleted within seconds.  No longer does the casual or amateur photographer have to wait an hour at the very least to evaluate the shots.  140 character manifestations of thoughts are instantly broadcast to the world (and can be just as quickly deleted) through twitter.  Does this mean less thought, intention or planning goes into what we produce? Is there really any sort of valid argument to counter this thought?