Monday, February 8, 2021

Revival after seven years.

I've graduated, the embodiment of mediocrity, not actively creating, taking home a miserable income every month because – cherry on top – a pandemic has seized the world, and also somehow the ceo's ability to renumerate us respectably.

the real reason why I'm back to lament via keyoard is because of this pandemic has disrupted real person communication and I've consequently lost my verbal eloquence. Which is ironic since I serve a customer service role at work that involves formulating appropriate responses in seconds. Yet somehow I can't speak, to the point where I fumble over basic enunciation.

I've become acclimatised to the digitized microblog, microcaption format. Quick ideas, quicker copy delivered in punches and no more elucidated, serpentine, detailed sentences. And that has spilled over into my ability to simultaneously string sentences while continuing real conversations at pace.

There is no revision, no editing, no comforting backspace when you talk to people. I start speaking in tweets. I taper off afraid that the other person has stopped listening after the seventh word after social media programming.

This space shall serve as a mode of composition practice.