HOW TO READ A WRITE – AS TOLD BY A FORMER READER AND WRITER
And so I sit. Completely dumbfounded. Scrambling for words. What are words, even?
I don’t think I’ve read a full sentence since 2017 and that was compulsory university jargon. Equally I don’t think I’ve put pen to paper since said time – have I forgotten how to sign my name, I wonder? I think I started it with an ‘L’.
Reading an Instagram caption is a chore these days, my eyes jumping from key word to key word (I guess education taught me something). ‘PLT’, ‘discount code’ ‘teddy coat’; it’s like I’ve had an immunisation vaccine against words and these are the only ones that have filtered through.
I even have to space the sentences in this post into paragraphs in order to read them. My eyes hurt.
It’s hopeles. No, make that double ‘ss’. Hopeless. That’s right, isn’t it? Spelling is now a lost art.
This is a confession that will not come as a shock (no gasp needs to be inserted between two asterix signs). Yes, I’ve forgotten how to read and write. 23 years into my life, one English degree later and Dickens… Well, who’s that?
I’m caught between a rock and an 11 word Instagram caption (or however many characters are in a Twitter post but I can’t be bothered looking that up). It’s laziness: you know it is, I know it is. We put this down to something we millennials like to call ‘busy modern day lives.’ This, of course, is a blanket excuse for anything we can’t be bothered doing anymore. Actually chopping a carrot? Get it in a bag frozen! Too busy in our modern lives for that! Hoovering a carpet? Get a robot that does it for you!
(We still, however, find time to order a Dominos Winter Survival deal and binge watch YOU on Netflix in one sitting. But boiling a kettle… Who has time for that?!)
A public toilet sign is almost too much for me these days. I have to see a visual instead of reading the sign. I’m word-blind. I’ve even forgotten how to be funny, but I guess I’ve just been too busy in my modern life for that too…
It comes as such a shock to me, this writing palaver, a sudden urge to get words on virtual paper, that I’ve even had to text my boyfriend about this revelation:
‘I’m writing again’, it reads.
He’s read it within seconds but no response for a good thirty minutes. He must be in shock too.
Either that or he’s forgotten how to read as well.
So, much like a beloved pair of boots that we discard into the back of our wardrobes only to begin wearing every day three years later (is there a better analogy than a sartorial one?), reading and writing has fallen back onto my radar. In these short, stagnated paragraphs of words, I’ve begun to rediscover what I so loved.
Words, reading, writing… I’ve missed you.
I’ll hopefully be seeing you around more often (in slightly longer sentences next time, I hope).
*P.S. boyfriend eventually replied; ‘I do miss reading your blogs’, he said.