Grammar and the magic of language

I am fascinated by my own mind, especially when I write. I write very fast, vaguely aware of the thought process. All I want to do us to jot down what intrigues and concerns and bothers me at a particular moment. I don't even pay attention to the finer points of grammar. I worry about It when I reread what I just wrote and sometimes I don't even do that. I just hit the "send" button. Then here comes the mystery. My mind begins to talk to me, telling me that I need to double on this and that, even a day a two later. A case in point, I wrote recently "the communication between she and me." Even as I wrote it, I felt uncomfortable. And I should have doubled checked it upon finishing, but I didn't. It appeared I wanted to humiate myself publicly for making a mistake in that sentence. At least, I didn't make two mistakes as most people would.

I am a student of languages. I force my mind, even at this late age, to remember words in eight languages, five of them I hardly have any need, except for vanity and the pleasure of struggling with my own mind. In learning a language, I pay close attention to words and their meanings and scant attention to rules of grammar. That's been the way I approach language. Grammar bores me. On the other hand, my mind is attracted to the formation of words. So when I write, I am thrill when words arrive sometimes out of the blue to meet my need of expressing a thought. I don't even know for sure how that thought comes about, in key words or by a certain idea.
(cont.)