second language
English was my second language.
I found myself not being able to properly express my thoughts and ideas by using my mother tongue, as I couldn't also talk without using it.
I wouldn't even call myself a bilingual, though I also know one more language, which I unconsciously use when I'm emotionally uncomfortable.
So the thing is—my vocabulary sucks.
HAHA. Somewhere along my disorganized journey to live, I stopped reading. I couldn't properly read, the books I opened few minutes ago was left behind after flipping through 3 chapters since my mind wondered off elsewhere, then proceeds to read a random book which I'll abandon halfway and forget that i've been reading it.
My attention span is shorter than a goldfish's, perhaps it's even dead.
Sometimes there was this sudden gush of ideas, it was so brief that grasping it with my hands only slips away since I wasn't fast enough. Those kind of creative words were only left to rot somewhere within my unconscious mind.
My memory is decaying eversince the time I couldn't even remember.
I actually noticed how stiff I was when using my second language.
And how much I tried reading again, half of it couldn't process since my rusted brain couldn't properly function but somehow randomly starts functioning normally, unexpectedly at that.
So much for this self deprecation.
So like... when can I actually read books like I've used to.