The words spill out my eyes and ears; my fingers can’t keep up with the clickety-clack in my head.
The stream shut off in March. March 27 to be exact because I recorded it here. I shut off the words, shut off my feelings, shut off some people. Packed it all in and turned it off.
But the blockage has been unstopped, uncorked, and the words come unfettered again.
I could write here 10 times a day, fill up boxes of journals, and I still don’t think I’d have enough space to write down everything.
I move through the world thinking thinking thinking in paragraphs and feeling in compositions.
If I’m silent around you, it’s because I’m typing in my head. I don’t know how others think, but I type. And sometimes I get all OCD and have to type only words that are balanced between my left and right hands. Type is actually one of the most satisfying words because the left hand bookends the right so neatly, and everything is up on the top row of the QWERTY keyboard. I’ll take any word, but a nicely balanced one is a trophy, a prize to be savored and retyped again and again.
PS If you’re not on to me, I have a confession. Sometimes I write these posts at night when wordiness is best, and then schedule them to be published in the morning. TRICKSTER! While sometimes I write at 4:30 am, I’m usually not up posting things at 6:00 am. Because that’s just plain ol’ nutty and I’m not nuts.
