Notes

Sometimes I forget how to write – the physical mechanics of it. I’m so used to tapping fingers. I can remember when I thought I’d never learn how to type without looking at the keyboard. I still have to look for numbers, though.
I remember when I would never dream of using anything but a pencil. Ink was too permanent for me, too final. Whiteout was tacky.
I remember when gel pens were all the rage. Every color. Especially metallic. I still love metallic blue and red.
I remember when writing was a chore, when answering questions with long answers was tedious.
I remember when I thought the word tedious was pretentious.
Now,
I just want people to ask me questions so I can answer; type-written, in pencil, in ink, in gel, en full.
I need to relearn the act of feeling through the use of paper.

M.

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