Getting back

Writing...once I considered it to be an integral part of me. I never thought I would part from writing. Its so strange that I had. I had parted with writing so much that i felt a foreigner if i had to write something. Anything at all. It was weird. I would sometimes read stuff that I had written earlier and actually wonder how i wrote all those things. Now, when I have to write something, it no longer flows. My synapses seem to be lagging. I make a nice comment and I am surprised I can do that even now. Its like some old sluggish machine that was once zipping away,amoothly and instinctively, but suddenly crashed and blued out. Now when I am trying to resurface and write a bit, I feel like I am doing something that was once vaguely familiar, yet vaguely fascinating. I cant believe my relationship to something that I thought would never break has now splintered. reforming and growth are so surprisingly reluctant, painful and long thought out that they feel deliberate...
Instinct has now dwindled to.......de..deli.....deliber.....deliberate....

Guess thats how animals became wild for us and civilization means a bunch of concrete buildings, malls and yea...cell phones....but now i am wandering....in the jungles of my weird, patched up existence that believes that if i stick around, then i grow cobwebs and start rusting....but well, i Didn't stick to writing and look! here I am dawdling around with words and trying to be witty and s-s-stumbling around with my thoughts and narration after quitting writing and now getting back to it after ages...