Thoughts I've thunk while sippin' at a cup of tea and reading something provoking, often get dropped here for the benefit of humanity and my own hubris.
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Sometimes I just want to write… you understand, right? My therapy session. As you can tell by this picture, I’ve had a bit of a distraction as of late, so when my family is asleep, and I have a few minutes to myself, I just want to write and express all the emotion inside this block on my shoulders.
But I can’t. I’m so drained and tired, I just don’t know what to write.
If I were painting, I could just swirl the paint around on the paper and enjoy the color show. I guess what I am writing is the literary equivalent of a aimless watercolor wash. Yeah, I’m sure you would use a more technical term, like rambling or pointless.
I guess that would be accurate. And is that so bad? I mean, you must not have much going on if you’ve read this far. Oh no, there I go again, insulting my readership (that’s right, both of you). I’m sorry. Let’s forgive and forget, ok?
Oh dear, is that my baby crying in the other room? And I didn’t even have a chance to finish this thought and get my point across. Whatever it was.
© 2003-2005, Howard Abrams • Except where otherwise noted, all original content is licensed under a Creative Commons License (see details).
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