re-learning

writing is weird.

sometimes the words flow out like a perfectly organized symphony

other times they are jagged and clog up the drain of my mind.

the words just want to be understood

they want to speak in their own language

but you see

that's the problem

I forget the language

Sometimes by day

Sometimes by week

Sometimes by month

I always relearn it

but it takes time

that's the way I am today

I guess I'm in the process of 

re-learning

I know there's something in there

deep within

but it's hiding in a cranny of my mind

and I can't quite get it out yet.

that's a problem.

maybe the words escape easier when I am in distress

when I'm not sure which book to read

or what my favourite flavour of ice cream is

when I'm waiting on that three o'clock call

or that 11:30 text

or that random email that I'm sure is coming

tho I'm not quite sure when

maybe my words are bolder and more triumphant on the page

when my mind is not content to sit and watch Spencer Reid

on the TV screen

when Prussia has reached his utmost awesome

(which, let's be honest, will never happen)

and I no longer fangirl over the things I love

when I'm discontent

with staying in one place

I have to do something

I need to do something

there.

I did something.

maybe that's the key.

but you can't bottle up that feeling

it's impossible

it's implausible

it's astronomical.

you want this too

I know you do

but how

how 

how

maybe I'll figure it out

but first

I need to keep on

re-learning

or else I'm utterly lost.