The above reads:
I’m attempting to correct my terrible handwriting, so that when they dig it up in a thousand years, they don’t think I’m insane.
Handwriting is an interesting thing. As children we learn to be very neat, to stay inside the lines, to do finger-spaces in between words to give them enough room to eat themselves to death, swell up, and burst. Then when we become confident enough that we know how wide a finger is without the need for a finger (I thank you), we begin to develop our own style, our own way of writing. It sort of personifies our personality… sort of. Some people claim they can determine if you’ve killed someone by the look of your handwriting, others think the love heart you put over the top of an ‘i’ means you want to roll around naked with puppies. Maybe. I’m no expert.
What I can tell you is that my own handwriting has definitely become more illegible over the years. I had the regular messy handwriting of a child until I reached secondary school, whereby every word became so tiny that I could fit six times the amount on a line compared to anyone else in my class. I was renowned for my tiny writing and often worried that my exam papers would be returned because there were no magnifying glasses powerful enough to see just what the Hell I’d written exactly. I was able to write so quickly, and so tiny, that on my middle finger on my right hand, a dent began to appear where I used to rest my pen- my fingers twisted steadily outwards, which is how they remain, as slightly disfigured memoirs of relentless writing. Nonetheless this continued for around seven years; more than likely a very physical expression of my emotional introversion. Then about a year ago my writing began to undergo a semi-dramatic change which resulted in the format you can see above, in all of its unctuous, chaotic glory.
Of course I am exaggerating slightly, but it’s undeniable that now my Ss look like backward Cs, and my Ks are shamefully similar to my Hs. Alongside the general pseudo-shorthand style, I now also spend many minutes trying to differentiate between 0s, 6s and 8s, as my mad scrawling becomes more and more indecipherable- not a good situation to be in, in a job which deals primarily with IP and ISDN numbers!
So what does my handwriting say about me now? Perhaps it shows my insecurity, or perhaps even a small disregard towards everything in general- a thought which entertains me slightly. More than likely I write in such a way now because everything I need to make a note of is much more hurried- these guts are getting any younger, you know. Furthermore I do quite like to think that it shows my increasing madness, because it would be an accurate representation. But it might also be beneficial to reduce the psychosis evident in the loops and swirls… I wouldn’t want to make it so easy for future historians now, would I?
Or the police for that matter.