A Possible Rebellion

I'm trapped between the digital and the analogue world.
Stuck between them, more like it.
At times I fight the progression of technology by ignoring new fads, phones, and pads.
I fight the desire of making things easier, because sometimes
I like the old fashioned way--let nostalgia take over.

Each morning at the dawn (plus or minus),
The LED screens call out to me, to entrance me, and enslave me.
I fall into their grasp and die a small amount each day.

The worst are the days I don't swing the pendulum to the analogue side:
The side with printed text on paper cut from trees or making a meal over a fire stove.
The wise man said to me, "If you stare at a problem for long enough and you can figure it out"
(One should be able to anyway, not sure about the ones born after me).
Those days of staying on the bottom half, where I just lay in bed half the day
And eat as the farm pigs do: anything in my way.

Most of the time I must force myself to the hardworking side.
A voice tells me to force it until it becomes second nature,
Until it becomes the natural physical response to the digital world,
A possible rebellion.