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While not in school we would roam our cities with no supervision, as long as we were home by the time the streetlights came on.
I’m 42 and the only thing I write in cursive is my signature.
I kept doing cursive into adulthood but eventually the futility of life and the pointlessness of existence made me stop caring and I switched to godawful illegible printing that looks more like stick figures than written language.
‘Cursive’ is a very generous description of the scribble that has become my signature…
Oddly, my handwriting is converging on something that resembles cursive. Not using the hand-cramping painstaking bullshit methods that were beaten into us during grade school, but with fluid movements that those misguided curricula were likely attempting to emulate.
Just book the exam uncs
I just want to die under one of those parachutes. Just give me that.
That can be arranged.
Every other Fortnite we would all collectively prepare our bodies for the cleansing conflagrations due to fall upon us at any moment and wipe us from the face of existence.
