Writing once a month on this blog is a very bad idea. Not practicing a language is an extremely bad idea, especially when it’s the language that feeds me. Although I read in English all the time, never ever writing in the language makes me prone to forgetting my vocabulary or even how to structure sentences. I know this sounds as I were a beginner, but I’m detecting that something’s very wrong with the English compartment in my brain. The other day I told somebody I was working for, an Arabic-English bilingual, that I felt I had gaps in both Spanish and English. He told me that at last somebody described the way he felt.
Spanish is okay right now because I write fairly often on my other blog. By the way, I feel so much better now that I took the conscious decision to stop forcing stories upon myself. Maybe it’s a bad decision, but I do feel better now acknowledging the fact that I don’t have stories to tell other than my own. Comics, on the other hand… I need to get over my fear of drawing. Rather than that, I need to get over my fear of beginning.
So, where was I? Oh, right. I was so much more fluent when I wrote in English than now that I’m mostly a passive consumer of words. Yeah, I know, it doesn’t make sense if my job is to speak the language. But still, writing fixes words in my mind in a way that mere talking doesn’t. Or maybe it’s like the autowash cycle in the machine that we’re checking out at work—the machine never stops working but everything becomes so much clearer after the washing’s done.