I'll start again. Yes, maybe not on how my pen dance but how my fingers feel the carvings on the keys. I'll try to start how my hands should cooperate with my brain for it is faster even as compared with the sound that comes out of my mouth. Worry not, I've totally not forgotten how, I'm just afraid of my whys but I've certainly not forgotten how but on how it should be, I have no knowledge.
Dates, time, places. Who would have exclude these elements for highlighting such, whether a tear was shed or laughter was shared. It is not a routine but a cycle of all these. Numbers, numbers, numbers. For it's span, short or long, is the infinite of many. North, South, West, East. Who doesn't want to explore, to find their home? All these contributes. All these are important, for one who remembers and to one who forgets.
Now I'm finally lingering to a fresh new, to something I've been striving for, and even to nothingness. Just to contain my hunger, just to sustain my need, and just to find what is lost or what has been lost. In totality, in the vagueness of all these maybe I'm the one who's lost and just wanted to be found but seeking its being in a parcel that is existing yet unknown.
So my final blow would be, I will unlearn everything to learn everything. To find what is lost or what has been lost all along. To be found, and to finally find my home.
