From:      Robel
To:          Munit
Subject:  The last act … hey Scotty, you're in charge of the curtains, make sure you beam them onto the stage on time

Letewdedshiw ye'Munit lijoch inat, leTenash indemindineshilign? Well, that's just about all the formal greeting as I'll do, especially since I have to go work on that teletransporter you suggested. Why so soon? I have a disturbing feeling that the SELEDA editors have issued a warrant for my decapitation … I think I may have been a little too "creative" with my last entry. Keyazugnim ingideh, they'll megelagel me from the miseries of school. In that case, I'll make sure I leave you the damned gadget in my will … just don't mind the rubber dolly on one of the seats … she can be good company though…

So this is our last round of diary entries … somehow I feel obliged to make a point today … Hopefully, I'll find that point by the end of this short little scribble. As for the stress thing you mentioned … I have no idea why it seems to be an ingrained component of college life. Sometimes I feel compelled to scream out, "Erediyaaa, idawin beCHerQu" and drop the whole thing. Oh, no, but how could I do that when the voice of reason (I don't know why but this voice usually sounds like either of my parents') that's tucked away in the back of my head keeps pricking my brain every time that thought occurs to me! Negative reinforcement new yemilut? Unfortunately, the only way to beat "the system" is by going through it, even though a couple of nervous breakdowns or fits of insanity and post-traumatic stress syndromes can be untimely and frequent consequences. And how to deal with all this stress? Gidgidawin bebuTi? Drop computers out your window (this is the official stress relief procedure at CalTech, no joke!)? Personally, gashe MuziQa seems to be a redeemer. Make me go two days without the sound of a tune, and I will go berserk … if there are any national secrets that I may know of, I'll spill my guts … There is something about a familiar tune (be it that Ethiopian song that leaves an idiotic grin plastered to your face, or the latest from commercial pop culture that makes you bob your head back and forth) that is unbelievably comforting.

Getting back on the technology tip, though … you are right about the Star Trek-y gadgets that are adorning the walls of stores nowadays. Wireless Internet, MP3 players the size and shape of a ball point pen (coming soon from Sony), personal organizers the size of credit cards, watches with audio/video options (somehow I feel obliged to include Viagra in this list but I'm not sure if it would quite make the cut … you know they wouldn't accept my suggestion for a motto: "Keep your head up" … I don't know why they wouldn't like it). [editors respond: We'll have you know that THIS barely made the cut of SELEDA sanssur beero.] Yihe hulu tirke mirke beyebotaw tezrekriko iko tadia, it's amazing how many people even here in the "West" opt to remain uninformed about them. Of course, there's always the issue of affordability (which is always involved when the issue of hi-tech gear comes up) … gin demo min yadergal, the day after I buy the latest in hi-tech equipment a new and improved one will come out for a cheaper sale … why is the market trying to spite us?

Nonetheless, even though we often take technology for granted, it is obvious that it is paving the way for a better tomorrow, an easier and more comfortable realm for us, our children, and the generations to come. (No, I don't watch CSPAN the whole day, heheh). So, Munitiye, I say to you: dare to dive into the deep pool of tech-world. You won't regret it. Besides, it's really not as confusing and ye'angol beshita as they say it is. Well, maybe just a little bit … :-)

So … here I am … trying to wind this thing to a reasonable conclusion while the mesmerizing jazz tunes of Charles Mingus blast the living daylights out of my dirQ yeCHeresaChew speakers. All I can say is, this truly is a sad moment. No, wait, who am I kidding? I'm ecstatic like a drunken butterfly in spring to have the laser-gun-totting editors off my back. Firjayen new iko yasayugn zendiro. Nevertheless, I shall cherish this experience (Is that an inkling of sycophancy, I wonder?) of venting out our ideas on the toes and heels of life, while occasionally touching on that dreadful thing called technology. It has been one hell of a rushed ride for sure … thanks to the editors' deadlines!

Dear future diarists: WARNING the editors most probably will control your life for the duration of the diary. They most probably will threaten your life…but when you do what they want you to, they can actually be kind of pleasant…"pleasant" being quite relative. I'll leave it to your imagination!

I take my final bow. The curtains are slowly but surely converging to the center. The lights are going dim. Tear stained faces, snotty noses, sobby hiccups… Can you hear it? Do you hear the crowd? Ah, what tragedy is this?

Sewoch, beka haedachehu? Ahun men lareg new? Funny enough, I have become attached (gasp!) to your unseen faces, your faces that have merely been 12 size, Times New Roman font with splashes of bold-italic interpretations of some mutation of the amharic-englified phonetic language. Your words that have, at times, left me fesae kuk eskil deres eyesaku. ("Keep your head up"? Sketchy! Robeliye, stay away from advertising! Just a thought.) Ay, benafekot endalemot! Gen betam ataseb. I'm sure I'll get over it in…hmm…I'd rather not say. I don't want to bruise any egos…

It has been quite a fascinating, fast-forward motion week. My blood pressure has reached elevations unknown. Shibet be shibet hognalehu… and my roommate is about to cage the computer as I have been laughing alone at the screen while reading English letters that, to her, look like keyboarding gone terribly wrong! It's a beautiful thing. My own little personal joke which she will never get. Hehe.

But it has been real. To connect with you, to hear your little struggles and idiosyncrasies and smile and say, "Hey, kenae yebase Kewti lekass ale!" It has been interesting to hear you go from, "Stay away from the mouse trap of technology!" to "Take a dive into the tech-pool!" What are you trying to do? Is this a trick? A test? "Wede fetenam atageban! Ke kefu hulu adenen enji…Amen."

Betam amesegenalehu for the invitation to the tech-pool (which quickly converts into the shark infested pools of James Bond fame!), but I think I'll just skirt around it, dip / wiggle my awra-taToch periodically, and yank them back if the water proves too cold, too isolating, too removed from life and the warmth of real people…and too surrounded by mice with Microsoft logos and terminal cramps in my right thumb, my best friend to the keyboard's space bar! Besides, my eyesight isn't the 20/20 vision it used to be. Actually I might be allergic to computer screens. Wey gud. Yehame ale endae?

By the way, as Charles Mingus was in your ear while you composed, Charles Mingus was in mine while I read and, now, write. Cosmic connections? What science and technology explains this little bit? You know what my little conclusion asmesay is?

As a species, with our technologies and toys, we raise ourselves up, and pull ourselves down…and at this point, lord knows which side we're leaning towards. I mean, I think it was the Chinese that thought they found the secret to eternal youth and made gun-powder instead, right? Right? (I think it was.) Good intentions but…oops. What did you do when you said oops? But then, at the end of the day, it doesn't matter, really. I mean, tomorrow, we might get hit by a maniacal taxi driver / stampede of aheyawoch / or a shower of nature-sharpened icicles from the edges of roofs, depending where you live. At the end of the day, we are but two-legged creatures that are prone to distinction by our own choices / free-will as a species and by the quirks of Emama nature and the vast unknown!

At the end of the day, in the grander scheme of things, in the scopes of universes even the Voyager hasn't pretended to warp-speed into, despite how deep we have dug, the millions of questions we have asked, the millions we have answered and those we still have to ask, despite all of this, we still know just the tip of the mysteries of life, our existence and purpose. We are still, thousands of years later, asking, "Who am I and why am I here?" No technology has given an answer to those essential questions-to-self.

What else has technology not done? It hasn't helped me stay awake through writing this…through the ranting and raving about nothing trying to disguise itself as something. Please, don't ask me how much cafféin I have injested! My blood vessels are browner than they used to be and I am sweating espressos! Like technology crashes..so must I, unless someone volunteers to upgrade me? Volunteers? I didn't think there would be.

So let me take this chance while I'm still alive to say thank you to whoever Seleda member found me here and made me a pawn in their game of dictatorship (do this, go there, jump here, 1782 words exactly is what we need!). Thank you Robel for the words, the smiles they brought, your patience, and the teletransporter, too. You know I've been missing those beautiful melodies of police sirens and my daily mugging action. I might see you not too far in the future…if you will still be alive and haven't thrown yourself out with the computers (I'm really hoping you weren't serious about that.) I can't stand the goodbyes. Snif snif. Parting is such sweet sorrow.

The curtains are drawn.
Dehna hunu lejoch.
Yezare abebawoch
Yenege feraewoch…
Yezare feraewoch
Yenege abebawoch…

Dehna hun, yenae sekaram birabiro

Dehna hunu, 12Times New Roman font with a dash of bold-italics.

Dehna hunu.

Munit