Stardust Memory
The store I bought my stationeries from sent me a set of calendar cards and a wooden block to display them, a nice gesture that immediately reminded me of how nice it was to have a real calendar in your hand. Since they're just cards, they're pocket-sized, and could have a place on my bedside table without taking too much space (a premium these days). The material was surprisingly pleasant to touch, and once the calendar month has passed, the backside could be used to swatch test your pens or hold random doodlings.
The pristine surface didn't last long. It was soon defaced with scribbles of my upcoming plans. One thing to another, then my mind was drawn to the half-dozen sticks of gelly rolls I kept in my old drawers. They were dried, of course, remainders of my cardmaking days in... 2015? But they were still one-third and half full, so I never tossed them away, believing that someday I would revive and use them again.
That someday was today.
They enjoyed hot water bath from the dispenser in a glass bowl, just enough to cover the tips. After a couple minutes, the crust came loose. I scribbled one at a time until they write somewhat well. Almost all of them felt like new, save for the two Stardust sticks. No surprise here. Shimmer particles are notorious for clogging. Funnily, they released the glitters just fine (but the colors almost opalescent), so I believe the formulation must have separated inside. I keep them still, as in this state I can still use them to add shimmer to other non-shimmery inks.
I have forgotten how shiny and glittery these gelly rolls are, that they were the cool thing back then (gelly rolls were expensive, you could have local standard ballpoints at a quarter of the price. I bought them months apart from each other). I angled my scrap notebook just to enjoy the shimmer, a glimpse to my teenage heart. Suffice to say the calendar now looks positively gaudy.
I hope I'd be able to use them up this time and lay them to rest properly. Honestly, my life has been so different from high school and college. I no longer need planners. My days are manageable with just to-do lists that sometimes I would pause and think I'm doing this wrong, that I'm not (gasp) productive enough.
My heart ache for everything I'm trying to endure, but I can't help but grin at the whimsy of sparkly little notes.