When I was young I used to have close to perfect spelling.

Whenever I spoke I would see the word in my head as I said it, in nice clean large print, as if it was one of those cards we used to use at primary school to learn key words, or the highlighted text in a Ladybird book which for some reason contained every word I ever needed to say, no matter how obscure and arcane. If there was a word I couldn’t spell, I tried my best not to have to say it, warping sentences simply to cover my discomfort, disquiet, outright shame.

I don’t do this any more. When I speak my mind shows me nothing.

And I can’t spell a fucking thing.

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Notes:

1. Written on November 12th, 2024

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