February 24, 2015 Leave a comment
It’s prose, and not an actual story about my printer. Just something I thought of while I was at work one day in December, and am just getting around to putting it down.
I don’t even own a printer…
My printer will not print. It is full of errors. The paper tray is empty, the last sheet jammed in the motors. The ink cartridge is faulty, leaving me with colors that weren’t in my image. The scanner can’t see my photos, and only prints out white. Nothing new can be copied, I can’t submit anything new.
I’ve tried refilling the trays, the inks. I’ve tried coaxing the jam, taking that last sheet out of the machine and starting from scratch. I’ve turned it off then on. God how I’ve tried to turn it on, but my efforts seem meaningless. and I have to face facts.
My printer will not work. It has contacted a virus. It’s convinced that it needs to work differently, that it needs to spew out binary when I want it to print images. It makes things black and white when I want vibrant colors.
Give me passionate reds, I beg, crisp greens, warm yellows, show me soft purples and cool blues! Don’t make my writing jumbled, put forth the stories I wrote. The virus consumed my printer, and i don’t have the tech to purge it from the system.
I want the printer I fell in love with. The one I got from the store. I wan the one I saw on display that placed every pixel in place that could almost anticipate the words I wished to write before they flew from my fingers. I didn’t come home with the right printer. The one I wanted was just display and within a week it became painfully obvious.
Still, I made do with black and white. I made do with binary and bad pixels. I made do and I shouldn’t have. I should have returned the printer that week and asked for my money back. But now my warranty has run out and I don’t have the money to replace it. I spent it all on this one, and i have nothing left.
So, I live with my printer with its printer errors. I will write my stories in pen. I will paint my pictures on canvas and use my own colors. I won’t rely on my printer, and I won’t rely on other’s either. My faith in printers is lost, and my reliance on them was sick. If my colors aren’t right, I shouldn’t paint. If my stories don’t come alive, then I shouldn’t put them on the page.
So I will write my stories, and paint my canvases, and leave my printer to its errors.