“Cause I’m stubborn”, she said as she packed up her things and began to leave. That was earlier.
Now she’s writing, occasionally looking up at her friend sitting next to her, and having small conversations with him as he flipped through the channels.
“Anything to get my pen moving”, she said. That was yesterday.
She was briefly describing her inability to simply converse with another human being and how she apparently caught paragraph syndrome caused by staring at strangers on the train rides to and from school. Somehow, she’s been extremely tongue-tied lately. She couldn’t get it out there for the life of her and instead would stutter and sound like a complete imbecile - repeating statements that still did not get to the point. At times she would feel as if she had gone completely mad, but if you had not read Alice in Wonderland:Through the Looking Glass then you wouldn’t understand. She willingly accepted this, (though listeners did not have the ability to either figure out what she was trying to say or have the patience to sit and wait until she arrived at the climax of the discussion) because she didn’t want to talk, anyway. And so she figured it was time for her to move across the pages. An immense feeling of suffocation would take over her if she didn’t have anything to write with or anything to write. So she’d carry spares and scribble down useless lines until something hit her and she was able to breathe again.
