The human soul changes the way our handwriting does over the years.

We learn the basics of it early on, and create our own unique alphabet.

We perfect it, our letters turn into full readable sentences, turn into letters.

We become comfortable with it, we are recognizable through the strokes we make on paper.

And it is when we've finally created our final draft, that we notice how much it differs from others.

From the girl who uses one line instead of two dots when writing 'ij'.

From the boy who makes straight lines instead of curved ends with his g's or y's.

We adapt to them. We mix their writing into our own and make yet another draft.

And then we go on comparing it, it becomes an endless cycle.

We collect the way other people write.

The way the old man at the cafe wrote his 5 while doing a sudoku.

The way our parents still write in cursive.

We want to write like them, to be like them, because we think our letters aren't pretty enough to be seen.

But it does not matter how hard we try to change it.

It will always jump back to the way it was, to the little mixture of letters we've collected from others and our own.