I haven’t written in forever.
I mean, of course I have. Of course I’ve lifted a pen and doodled mindlessly, of course I’ve opened my laptop and written more deliberately — articles of the academic kind, op-eds and such, of course I’ve been on Twitter and have let loose strings of thought that I have neither the patience nor the mental acuity to sew together, not even the time.
So, yes. Technically, I haven’t written in forever.
And in that forever I have had things happen to me that I would have wanted to write about, but was unable to — passing the Bar and becoming one step closely to fulfilling my 17 year old self’s dream; realising how different my current 24 year old dreams are and deciding that they, too, are worth pursuing; finally seeking help after years of telling myself that “This, too, shall pass” (because sometimes, while things do pass, they have to be talked about); finding someone in whose hands I have chosen to enclose a piece of my heart; relearning my love for getting whisked away and stepping on foreign lands; and so on and so on, and so forth.
So, here I am once again. And with a renewed sense of vigour and purpose, with a reminder to keep writing — not for an audience, but for myself. To remember again and again that some things are made, some are found, some are learned, and some are rekindled. And my god, I want to make, and find, and learn, and rekindle my love for writing once again. I want to make, and find, and learn, and rekindle my knowledge of me a second time over.
So, hi, WordPress. I’m back, and I’m fine, and how have you been?
Of perpetual finds 