anti-texting propaganda

in which i write a manifesto instead of replying to texts

are you an email person?

i was asked this question a few short days ago, by a newish friend whom i’ve been chatting with on and off. she lives in another city and we haven’t spend any amount of significant time in-person. but we’re lockdown friends, who began talking because of similar interests (in our case, books) and keep in touch mostly via instagram.

from the get-go, our texts to each other were long and wordy. the kind of texts that feel like letters. you think extra hard before sending them, you might even type it out on your notes app first. i know you know what i mean; with some people, texting paragraphs feels only natural.

but it wasn’t exactly suited to our medium, which is why when she asked me for my email, i jumped. finally! a woman after my own heart.

i have been writing emails ever since i discovered the internet. google chat was my social media, but my friends weren’t always online, so we settled for emailing back and forth instead.

we moved around a lot when i was younger, so emailing was also the way i tried to stay in touch with my far-away friends. “tried” being the functional word. not everyone was an email enthusiast like me.

when i got my first smart-phone and got onto whatsapp, i was a fish out of water. it wasn’t the instantaneous replies that got to me, but its sheer constancy. text conversations could go on and on and on. they never ended. wires got crossed all the time. friends interrupted me when i wasn’t done talking. i just didn’t see the hype.

cut to 2021 AD, and i still don’t.

so this is my anti-texting manifesto.

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1. should we be talking this much?

i am a firm believer that the less you talk to your friends and significant other, the better. do you ever read war-time letters and wonder why romance is dead? here’s a hint: distance makes the heart grow fonder. wink wink.

but it’s not just that. are you ever up at night, texting someone, and you’re overcome with the urge to say more? yeah, you probably shouldn’t. sometimes i think we talk to people just because they’re there, and we can. not because we have anything to say.

in my own life this has introduced complications into pleasant friendships, and awkwardness into already complicated ones.

think of it this way: would you really send that text if you had to put it in a letter, fold it up, find an envelope, lick a stamp onto the envelop, then drop it off at a postbox? no? then don’t text it.

except we do. all the time. it’s compulsive, the all-consuming need to be talking to someone constantly. i remember the worst part about breaking up with my exes was the complete void in my life afterwards, that would have otherwise be filled with incessant texts. never mind that those texts rarely said anything meaningful, and were actually a bit of a chore when i was on the receiving end. it just felt good to get them.

i wonder where that comes from? wherever it may be, i don’t want it. it’s much more meaningful for me to spend time face to face with my friends, and to drop an email or a letter to the people i don’t see every day.

i’m not a purist. it’s kinda sweet to be able to send a “i’m thinking of you!” text to a far-away friend in the middle of the day.

could also work as an email though. maybe even attach a pic for some extra charm.

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2. i didn’t mean it like that.

it seriously sucks to be misunderstood. you know when you mess up and have to send an apology text?

make it an apology email.

for one, it’s just so much easier to edit. emails are made for long-form content. texts aren’t. if you type out your email without filling in the receiver’s address, that eliminates the mortification of accidentally sending an incomplete draft.

and just, in general, it’s so much easier to explain yourself when you aren’t texting. the time it takes for you to formulate a thought in your head, type it into a chat box, and hit send, is scarily miniscule. some experienced texters may send a text without even realising it. it’s worse than talking, because at least with talking the words disappear and you can gaslight the other person into believing you never said them. (i’m kidding.)

but in texts, the words are right there. no take-backsies.

evolutionarily, getting rid of the habit of thinking before you speak was not a good decision. we need that practice back, stat. i will henceforth only be receiving text messages if you also submit proof that you had handwritten at least two drafts of the text beforehand.

boy, i wish i could enforce that.

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3. i said, i wasn’t finished.

what is it about a text that makes the other person want to respond immediately? it’s probably the sheer dearth of effort it takes. you’re lying facedown on your bed, reevaluating all the big- and medium-sized life decisions you’ve made in the past 21-odd years, and your phone buzzes. it’s a text from your best friend saying “so, i was thinking”

and immediately you’re texting back “what?”

like, let a dude breathe, maybe?

sometimes i’m in the middle of making a point (which, for me, takes anywhere between three to 30 texts) and the person i’m texting will charge in with a rebuttal for a caveat i was JUST about to account for. now if i add it, it looks like a retroactive edit. he’ll never believe me when i say i was just about to address that. cue earth-shattering frustration and friendship ruination.

you know the cool thing about emails? you know when it’s over. that’s because it ends. there’s a sign off, whether it’s hugs, krys or please don’t ever email me again. krysanne. it has to end somewhere. and THEN you hit reply and begin your response.

(so at this point you’re probably thinking, what kind of text conversations are you having? to which i respond: if you aren’t writing dissertations to your near and dear ones on the daily, you’re doing it wrong.)

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4. doesn’t feel good, doesn’t look pretty

ooh, i received a text from my boyfriend! let me make a cup of tea to take with me as i sit by the window and read it.

said no one ever.

the charm of receiving an email in your inbox or, swoon, a handwritten letter, is unbeatable. even if you’re writing to fire me, i’m falling in love with you a little. your Sincerely, Employer sign-off makes me wanna take you to dinner. it’s just so quaint.

did you know that some people clear their chats weekly? it’s hedonic behaviour, but i don’t blame them, because it’s just so easy. clearing out your email takes far more effort, and don’t even get me started on the feasibility of dramatically flinging handwritten letters into the fire (which is, as we all know, the only acceptable way to dispose of them).

i am, unfortunately, all about the aesthetics. no matter what my background picture is on whatsapp, the app is inherently ugly. it’s far too stupid-looking for the beautiful, magical conversations it’s meant to hold. i’d much rather take them to paper, where i can draw a little heart or a knife-clutching me-moji, depending on my mood. i just like having the option, you know?

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5. 2 fast 2 furious

i know i said at the start that the instancy of texts don’t scare me, but i lied. it kinda does. with every text comes the expectation, nay, the demand for urgent response. what if i want to think on it? too late. your friend’s already on the group chat cribbing to his girlfriends how you’re taking too long to respond. a five minute delay is worlds apart from a fifteen minute delay, and don’t even get me started on the dreaded seven hours of silence.

do you know what we call a delayed email response? normal behaviour.

the funniest part is how if i take the normal amount of time to respond to a text, it makes me a bad texter. i have to apologise, grovel, barter, sell my soul, etc. for forgiveness. it’s never like “oh, you took three months to answer my ‘how are you’ text because it sent you down an existential spiral that you had to crawl out of with your bare hands and bitten nails? that’s cool, bud. been there, done that.”

it’s always “don’t text krysanne. she’ll take too long to reply and then feature you in her newsletter. it’s just not worth it”

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i think that’s probably a good place to end this.

if you would like to respond to this newsletter, well… you know how not to do it. :p

while writing this letter i took a trip down memory lane, and revisited all the unanswered emails in my inbox. it was like walking through a graveyard of almost-somethings. it was bittersweet. there were some beautiful conversations, some funny ones, some terrifying ones. i’m thankful for every one, over the years, who has deigned to send me an email. i hope that i can one day gather up the courage to hit reply, apologise, and keep the conversation going.

also, somewhat related: i finally zeroed down on my favourite genre of books. it’s epistolary fiction (or nonfiction, i’m not picky). what is an epistolary novel?

An epistolary novel is a novel written as a series of documents. The usual form is letters, although diary entries, newspaper clippings and other documents are sometimes used. Recently, electronic "documents" such as recordings and radio, blogs, and e-mails have also come into use.

so if you have any recs for this genre, let me know!

until next time,

krys