To live, breathe and color a language

I actually intended to write this whatever it turns out to be in swedish, but since I'm at work, before work begun, I do not really have access to a swedish keyboard and no way I write a a o instead of a a o. So to say.

Life sure is a mystery. I guess whoever reads this already figured that one out. It seems logical enough - time changes, and what we're able to achieve is closer to nothing than anything in the grand scheme of everything unholy. However, what we are (or could be, or should be, sorta) able to do is that we're actually able to picture a fragment of whats occuring right now. I mean, by putting letters together into words, to feel, to express anything, is sort of a reflection of today. And we are each our own masters of our own perception, even though our ability to see things would be ridiculously limited by being by all alone. Or would it?

My primary language is swedish. Not really a big surprise, but I really feel that my ability to express pretty much anything in english is severely limited.

There aint enough color in the words that I utter. For me. In my world.

I read through my texts. I understand clearly what I mean, but I dont get the same flow. Or perhaps feeling, as when I write in swedish. Which is only logical, of course. But I want to explore and endure the process of making another language my own in a deeper way than the school bench implies. It's not just letters put in order to form words which form sentences which try to signal something about anything.

It's just so much more than that.

When I say some words. When I think of some places. When I dream certain dreams. When I'm awake, asleep or something in between I'm fully aware that I put everything somewhere in my mind.

When I think about different people, I try to use the happy pictures associated with them. I put vivid fluidity in my emotions, in my quite simple ways of understanding myself and others. I want my world to be happy.

I want to drench my language in color, so that every moment overflows with something that makes me feel alive.

I like to think about how I think. And why. And when. And how come and every other way possible. I do, I do, I do. Alot.

I feel that my english is lacking in color. I cant sense the deeper meanings of what I want to express, which annoys me. It annoys me greatly. Yes, I am very mad about that fact.

However, I do not intend to give up. This is just one of pretty much unlimited potential steps on my road to end my days in a world as vibrant as possible.

With the help of the people around me. Life.

Life is everything. A colorful everything to me.