Sometimes you can forget who you are.

Sometimes, or rather, often, seeing as I'm the case in point - I forget who I really am. When I look at all my previous posts, I am struck because I see a girl whose love in life next to living (which is obvious) is writing.

I miss writing about my life, writing about both superficial and deep words, I miss writing with no aim in mind but to please no one but myself and God.

I miss the times when I yearned to go home not to plunge myself in boredom and sleep but to write. Write until all the words my brain has managed to acquire in my 15 years of existence evaporated into the cold wintry air.

I miss those times.

I miss mental blocks, gruesome images of me having to cut my head off to explore the remnants of my brain, I miss all those.

It's time I relive the moments I've missed.