Mute
It isn't that I haven't anything to say.
There are frequently times in my life during which I am rendered utterly mute by the sheer volume of things I have to say.
Nuances of the afternoons that I want to celebrate for pages and pages, conversations I've had with famous (or infamous) people that have either flabbergasted or enthralled me, relaying the tale of The Great Vasectomy Story.
The trouble is that when I think about getting it all down in words, my brain just - slips off. My attention slides off the details as they were covered in a thick, viscous oil. A moment or two later, I regroup and remember, "Hey! I have something to write about - go back!" but again I ooze off down the gentle slope.
It's kind of like being high; thinking of something stellarly cool and important and making a note of needing to remember it, but then, like a hound after a particularly elusive fox, my brain bounds off to another, related detail. The first thought is still there, close by, but slightly fuzzier. Then, an adjacent shiny thing catches my mind's eye and I'm off a bit farther down the trail until finally, 5 or 10 or 3 minutes later, I can no longer remember the original, crystal clear epiphany - I only remember that it was there, and of vital importance. And now it's gone.
So my friends, all what ... 4 of you who read this blog? ... I have so much to say. I just haven't yet figured out how to do it.
There are frequently times in my life during which I am rendered utterly mute by the sheer volume of things I have to say.
Nuances of the afternoons that I want to celebrate for pages and pages, conversations I've had with famous (or infamous) people that have either flabbergasted or enthralled me, relaying the tale of The Great Vasectomy Story.
The trouble is that when I think about getting it all down in words, my brain just - slips off. My attention slides off the details as they were covered in a thick, viscous oil. A moment or two later, I regroup and remember, "Hey! I have something to write about - go back!" but again I ooze off down the gentle slope.
It's kind of like being high; thinking of something stellarly cool and important and making a note of needing to remember it, but then, like a hound after a particularly elusive fox, my brain bounds off to another, related detail. The first thought is still there, close by, but slightly fuzzier. Then, an adjacent shiny thing catches my mind's eye and I'm off a bit farther down the trail until finally, 5 or 10 or 3 minutes later, I can no longer remember the original, crystal clear epiphany - I only remember that it was there, and of vital importance. And now it's gone.
So my friends, all what ... 4 of you who read this blog? ... I have so much to say. I just haven't yet figured out how to do it.