My computer had what I would call a seizure. It’s just opened here, in front of me, black screen with a white arrow capable of moving around, but doing nothing more than that. Just annoying me. Not in the fundamentally annoying way. Just making my life harder than usually.  And also making me write from this app. Such a tiny keybord,  so little space for my mental floss. Such non-existent warning when I’m a master of stupidly spelled words.
I really feel like writing because I really feel like talking, or rather being listened to, and texts about useless things, this hide-and-seek type of dialogues are profoundly dissatisfying. I think I could talk for  hours out of sheer frustration. I could talk for days and days until I’m totally unable to articulate a word, until I’m numb and useless, simply because I love to talk.
Or rather,  I love to be listened to.
No, I don’t like people looking at me, gazing at me, staring at me, getting bored or annoyed listening to my ramblings. Yes, my unhealthily pale skin cam get all shades of red and my breath can become fast and shallow and my hands can become knots and the tips of my feet can sink deep into the ground, until they reach the hot center of my gravitational field. My brain can get weirdly irrational, my tongue irresponsible.  And tho, I will keep speaking . Talking. Telling. I will keep craving the high that the idea of being listened ro gives me. I will keep craving the weight I can feel forming in my stomach while words hurry out of my mouth. Out of my hands. Out of my eyes and lungs.
That is why I felt like writing. I did. Hope I’ll make a habit out of it, because it becomes difficult to breathe  with so many words stuck between my mouth and my brain.


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