Random acts of stationery #5

I spent approx­im­ately 93.8% of my time as an under­gradu­ate pre­tend­ing to take notes but instead writ­ing long, pret­tily dec­or­ated let­ters to all and sundry.

I still like doing so but alas, there just aren’t enough people who like receiv­ing them any more.

In my exper­i­ence hand­writ­ten let­ters only come from very eld­erly people with shaky hand­writ­ing that makes my head ache to decipher.

Still, at least you got a let­ter. I only get bills.

I would love a hand­writ­ten letter.

The last one I received came from a timid drama queen in Clapham. It was really lovely, des­pite the whiff of Brut For Men and the half-eaten bis­cuit that was start­ing to mold.

I wrote a love let­ter to someone in the dark once while I was in bed. When I looked at in the morn­ing I became quite vain about it and almost didn’t want to give it to her (I did though, and I think she was pleased).

Take one ink pen, add a sweetie jar filled with ink cart­ridges of all col­ours, placed where it calls to you. Writ­ing paper of choice, or other mater­ial used in your ran­dom acts of sta­tion­ery. Stamp. Post­box.
Let­ter writ­ing is such a dying art, and it brings such pleas­ure, a warm glow that could never be achieved in any other way. Curl­ing up and writ­ing a let­ter is very sooth­ing, once you have worked out how to get your ink to flow at an angle, which can ini­tially be a tad frustrating.

hmm still write let­ters but the people i write too let me hear no end about it. quote, you write long let­ters. how else do they expect to con­vey my heart­felt feel­ings. i feel lots…