Over the last month while getting to be known deeper by him I realised that I actually care about the fewest things; my attention is hardly ever focused and this brings me most of my daily troubles. Nevertheless, those things or beings I care for are utterly and noticeably important for me. One of them has asked me to take up writing and here I am writing. Besides, a part of me had been whispering "write more" for long, still both syllables became constant, irrelevant and even annoying when heeded, like the second hand of some flowing conscience. Nothing came out of me.
Honestly, I should be practising much more so as to improve the construction and deconstruction of my thoughts in another language. Yes I have plenty of reasons why my fingers should be galloping on the keyboard and yes some texts will be written and yes this is a commitment and yes that shadow is procrastination's.
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