I got a couple of texts this week asking me how I was - "how are you?"
Now that's a strange question - because I honestly don't know. If you'd ask me what I've been up to, I'd be able to easily answer that, albeit with a long message. If you asked me whose I am, I could answer that too.
But how am I?
Steering away from the typical "why fine, thank you" - I honestly do not know. I sorta feel suspended in this time that is almost all yours. You know where you'll be in a couple of months - getting on with your life basically, and these few months has been a good time to stand still and really soak it all in. So I s'ppose that's what I've been trying to do. Soak it all in.
I realise I really miss writing essays. I absolutely love writing essays (on subjects of interest, of course). It starts from choosing the font and formatting of the essay, and the physical touch to typing on the keyboard and watching words appear automatically on the crystal clear screen. The intellectual curiosity it stimulates as well - the gathering and processing of knowledge, physically flipping through the glossy pages of too-thick-for-its-own-good textbooks, and forming a coherent argument after countless drafts, to finally holding the hard copy, watching the black ink transform the white sheets of paper into an medium of knowledge.
I think I realise this every Sunday my pastor is in town, but I am infinitely blessed to come from the church I come from, to receive the revelation and the truth that will set me free every. single. week. There's nothing that can beat that.
I used to write a lot better.
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