There seem to be periods in my life where words began to build inside me like an oklahoma storm front.  I can feel them sliding in and out of consciousness—not making much sense, just So. Many. Words.  I must have a hundred thousand things to say locked up in there trying to form into coherent phrases and find their way out.  Sometimes they actually do.  Other times the storm simply passes and nothing happens.  Tonight is one of those nights there are so many words I am responding to emails just to get a few out of my head.  As we have been reading Harry Potter I have found the idea of a pensieve completely fascinating.  I can imagine nothing more awesome at this moment than being able to pull a though from my head and place it in a bowl for a while…

If only I had some sort of control maybe I could be writing something awesome at this moment, instead of explaining why I’m not.  But I don’t.  So I can’t.


1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. Andy Burnside-Weaver
    May 21, 2015 @ 11:11:11

    Sometimes words do not even exist for what one has to say.


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