Freshman year of college, one of the most enjoyable things most of the guys in our dorm discovered (the straight guys anyways) was the absurdly fun network multi-player shooting games, such as half-life. Such a good game, and I was damn good at it too, to the point where people would play under a name similar to mine because you could cut their jealousy with a damned knife.
You know what else has a half-life? My handwriting. It is so goddamn hard to read what I have written a few months after the fact. I stumbled across a note I had written myself a few years ago, and seeing as how what I had seen is now lost on me, I could barely make out the point I was trying to get across to myself. This is understandable, because most of the time I don't make any sense, regardless of the situation. However, the fact that the subject wasn't fresh in my mind made my handwriting all the more impossible. If I wrote something two weeks ago, I would still have a notion of what it was about, with the handwriting just jogging my memory of what I was thinking, not so much as telling me. This is not entirely bad, as words are just agreed upon descriptions of various things and ideas. However, my writing itself has a half-life, it is not eternal, because the farther I get away from the point of writing, the less I can make out what the hell I was thinking or trying to say. Also, when writing off the cuff, I find that it is easier for me to do so with a pen and paper, as the words flow better, I am taking my time a bit more, and things tend to be concise and better developed. With typing I jump all over the place, rush thoughts, and generally don't make sense. But at least you can read what the hell I wrote a few months later.
straight
