(no subject)
i am realizing that the longer i go without writing, the more difficulty i am having articulating, sorting and connecting my thoughts.
the delete button, the eraser of my pencil, and the skewing effect of scribbled pen ink over undesirable words have become safety nets. i try to speak less and listen better. i'm listening for emotion and for doubt. for possible excitement and a bit of nervous. for that seemingly undetectable pause that desires a delete button or at least a verbal editing program.
knowing fully the sound of such pauses in my own speech, i have spent many breaths explaining "i wish i could delete those last couple of sentences." I can't decide which has gotten worse, my stories or my confidence.
so many thoughts and so little to say.
maybe i need a drink.
the delete button, the eraser of my pencil, and the skewing effect of scribbled pen ink over undesirable words have become safety nets. i try to speak less and listen better. i'm listening for emotion and for doubt. for possible excitement and a bit of nervous. for that seemingly undetectable pause that desires a delete button or at least a verbal editing program.
knowing fully the sound of such pauses in my own speech, i have spent many breaths explaining "i wish i could delete those last couple of sentences." I can't decide which has gotten worse, my stories or my confidence.
so many thoughts and so little to say.
maybe i need a drink.