Scan the room, pause at you, blink, scan and pretend I didn't just glance at you.
Look up, pause at you, blink, sweep my eyes away from you.
Lean on the table, look relaxed, write things absently.
I see you at the corner of my eye, scanning the room, pausing at me,
blinking, and pretending you didn't just glance at me.
Looking up, pausing at me, blinking, sweeping your eyes away from
mine.
Permission to push down the butterflies, please?

Can you read what you read?
I'm sure you can and there's no need to ask.
But it's weird.
Feeling through symbols.
Understanding symbols.
Writing symbols.
Combining symbols to make sense.
But some combinations are wrong.
Making sounds for symbols.
Saying the symbols correctly.
Different accents for symbols.
Drawing symbols, making them look pretty.
Fonts for symbols.

Imagine. We are ruled by systems of symbols.

Fish would rather suffocate in land than drown in water.

There's something I'm itching to write
but I bite my lips and grip the pencil tight.

Nothing comes to mind.

I write this sentence but it doesn't sound quite right, it doesn't quite capture the essence of tonight.

I stare at the wall, then back at the paper where no words land. My thoughts make my hair stand and I want people to understand.

But my hand doesn't move.

So I sit back and write about not knowing what to write.