The Possibility of Naked Emperors
If I don't write it down, whatever it is either isn't real, or it's at least not important. This is a lie, but it lets me hide from big thoughts for a while.
I think my solid thoughts by writing words down. My thoughts float loose and chaotic – they're seeds and whispers with no connective tissue – if I don't do the math with structured language. I don't know what's going to happen when I start, and I'm as surprised as anyone when I get to the end.
Oh, so THAT'S what I was thinking! I think.
Sometimes, those thoughts land on the page like a delicious, revelatory meal I want to have again and again, and at other times they land as proverbial millstones around my neck. I always assume they will be millstones. It's like peeking around corners when you suspect that there is an intruder in your house.
It's like everything is a simile or a metaphor, and you don't want to look at any of it in case they turn out to be naked emperors.
January is such a terrible time to be this human being in the cold North. It's all lions and tigers and bears until spring.