Day 26

I have always thought of myself as someone with a very old soul. I prefer to have a few treasured friends, spending time to nurture each relationship, rather than to be trapped in a din of meaningless encounters. Send me a letter by post rather than an email. I love to see the words unfurl on the pages, no matter your signature penmanship; your scrawl forcing me to read everything twice, even three times. I prefer meeting up with you to 'lime', even if we end up sitting in comfortable silence with the odd giggle and eyebrow raising here and there, rather than to spend countless hours texting. In fact, I get tired and bothered by the sixth text. I go very far, only to do what I could easily have done by staying home; sitting and observing people. Some think this time of confinement, with minimal to no physical contact should be easy for persons like myself, after all I do spend much time in chosen solitude, getting lost in my books and travelling for miles only to spend hours walking in quiet with nature for company or staring at the water; but I never signed up for forced isolation. Like a bird with clipped wings, unable to fly.