A comeback writing exercise: stream of my consciousness.

To my concerned friends and netizens, yours truly is alive and back.
I think she is a bit rusty…. but nevertheless, here is a non-starter.
I hope you are alive and awesome too. Cheers, S.

How can a person go from writing intentionally everyday to not writing at all?
Perhaps they might be a procrastinator, with their affairs in complete disarray.
Or perhaps they might be busy playing adult.

—

Speaking of,

What does being an “adult” actually mean?
Is it someone who pays rent or mortgage? Knowing how to drive? Being eligible to drink? Or someone who is confidently opinionated about the world?
Or…

Is it you who is suddenly curious about Monopoly and Chess for concealed reasons?

Because I become increasingly aware each day, that growth can be temperamental and confused. Atleast it is to me.

With children being children
Adults acting like children
Children taking the roles of adults
And adults being adults

Its so strange.

——

Strangers are so strange.

I often get stopped on my way to somewhere by randos. It’s not uncommon. But I think I find it a little bit bizarre- how often it is that I get approached.

Often by blokes who need help with directions, or a hand with something.
Other times by strangers extremely curious about deep and personal things like my faith and political choice, sometimes ready to challenge me to a duel.

I like my sister’s response the most.

She says and I quote- “You just have one of those faces.”

———————-

Should I be concerned about how many dog handles I follow on instagram?
Not even dog people. Just dogs.