Disjointed Reality

Random content from a Disjointed Reality

I think I'm losing the ability to write.

The lead up to Christmas is the period when most people, myself included, pick up a pen and write more than we've probably written all year.

The annual chore of Christmas cards comes close to generating the same level of enthusiasm as completing my tax return - another seasonal necessity.

Throughout the year, I may pick up a pen probably once or twice a week; to sign my name or scribble a short Post-it note to stick on the front door, instructing the postman not to bury the expected package in the garden if nobody answers the doorbell. 

December arrives and boxes of Christmas cards are bought; totally forgetting that I probably still have a dozen or so cards left over from last year, lurking in the bottom of a drawer.

The new cards sit there until the last possible moment, usually the date given by the Post Office for latest guaranteed delivery before the 25th.

Reluctantly I start to scribble the same overly long, vaguely festive message, that I soon realise will take too long if applied to the whole pile of cards - and, to be honest, some of the people due to receive these cards probably wouldn't appreciate anything longer than 'Best Wishes'. 

So, 'Best Wishes' it is.

As I write this, and the usual 'From... etc. etc' I become aware that I'm finding it difficult to form certain characters in my cursive script, particularly the letters e and s. It's a combination of a mental and physical block. The more I think about it, the more difficult it becomes. Cursive soon turns to curses. 

Like most, I learned to write in primary school, far too many years ago. We used to form letters over and over again, then link them together to eventually form a flowing script that was almost as easy as thinking the words onto the paper. Now I'm struggling through lack of regularity to write a simple phrase.

I used to like to write, but now most writing is keyboard generated, be it real or virtual.

In a previous post I wrote about buying a good quality notebook and a fountain pen to rekindle a joy in writing.

The book remains empty, and the ink in the pen has dried up.


Oh well... Best wishes, everyone.

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