I miss the things I used to write on here, the way I used to write on here. My past self seemed so fluent at writing down detail for detail and metaphor for metaphor my inner stream of consciousnesses. How was I so good at dictating my internal monologue into something so comprehensible? Now when I try to write down all these interlinking ideas and thoughts I sometimes have about life, about the past and the future and just people in general, it just doesn't seem to sound right. It just doesn't flow like before.
I miss those late nights spent over one long blog entry where I had to perfectly convey this realisation that'd just dawned on me. Towards the early hours of the morning I'd reach an epiphany of sorts and at that point I'd have to pause, look up and think, "Ohh woooww. That really makes sense now. Shit I'VE GOT TO WRITE THIS DOWN BEFORE I LOSE IT."
Even this post lacks the type of tone or feel I used to have. But I guess "everything changes but nothing is ever truly lost". It'll come back one day.
I miss those late nights spent over one long blog entry where I had to perfectly convey this realisation that'd just dawned on me. Towards the early hours of the morning I'd reach an epiphany of sorts and at that point I'd have to pause, look up and think, "Ohh woooww. That really makes sense now. Shit I'VE GOT TO WRITE THIS DOWN BEFORE I LOSE IT."
Even this post lacks the type of tone or feel I used to have. But I guess "everything changes but nothing is ever truly lost". It'll come back one day.
