Making Words Aloud

Sitting in front of my computer with a big, white screen devoid of text I'm at a loss. I want to write something, creative words and such are floating around in my head and I know I have the ability to make feeding the cats and popping my gigantic zit sound like a cool adventure. There is nothing.

I've been feeling quite contemplative lately. There just seems to be so many thoughts running around, not quite coherent but completely whole. I find myself drifting off into that other plane of consciousness quite often but always getting yanked back out abruptly and before I'm done. Sometimes I can sit in one spot and think for hours, about everything real and imagined. I like thinking as there are no boundaries inside and nobody to question the deliriousness of my logic. As loud as I can be at times I think that I'm much more an introvert as I am more than comfortable with the same silence that make people squirm and bring up the weather.

In these past few days I wrote something that turned into a two page exposition, a topic which began quite lightheartedly benign but evolved into a very personal and affecting diary entry. I let Mr. Stinky read it and he thought it was good. He also questioned whether I would publish it or not. I haven't quite decided, it seems much too deep down private to let others see, yet is probably the most honest account of me that I've ever expressed. Don't hold your breath for it to appear here anytime soon.

I can talk. Oh my god, I can talk so much that sometimes it's hard to shut me up. But when my mouth isn't opened is when I find myself most profound. I've always found it much easier to write things down than to vocalize them but sometimes I feel that I need to share something of me. That seems to be why I wanted to have Mr. Stinky read my essay... I wanted him to know but my words don't work the way they do when I say them to myself. This way I was able to keep the integrity of the message and at the same time lay it all out on the table. It's not quite the most ideal way to communicate but for now I suppose it'll have to do.

I've kept a diary for years, keeping inane, momentous and show-stopping events in the hereafter. These past few years I've been lazy and only write once in a very long while and I think it's why I started this blog, not really for you but for me because I like words. I like the way they connect and make sense. The fun patterns they make all over the page. The way they let me tell my stories and someone else wants to read them. If I could, I would be constantly writing and therefore constantly updating.

I can clearly see how horribly unorganized and disjunct this post has been, and embarrassingly so. Normally I'd go back, slash and burn the words until they flow: beginning, middle, end. But today I think I'll just leave it as visual proof that lately I really can't seem to connect the dots. If my words won't even work imagine the abomination when I try to speak... As many trains of thoughts as I have, it's just like rush hour at the station but nobody knows what happened to the damn schedule.