Diary

My mind is full of useless thoughts yet thoughts I feel compelled to express.  I am not clear on the motivation to do such however; I still feel the compulsion to do so.  Frustration in this is derived from the want for such expression to be with depth of meaning and not simply a compiled verbiage of questionable grammar.  No this has to be more significant than that.  Words that will ring true and resonate with another being to such extent as to stimulate a response be it emotional, physical or cerebral.  But with each encounter with this need I come up short on the mark of such objective. Rather I succeed in nothing more than to expend virtual ink and paper with an onslaught of non or arguably – bi - directional waffling.  Interesting word: waffling.   I first encountered it in grade school in response to an essay I had submitted.  The English teacher saw through my charade of verbose meaningless expanse of nothing. I guess guilty as charged if all that I have written to date were to undergo such comparable scrutiny from one who purports to know.  This form of free expression though serves if not only, the useful purpose of flushing the mind – intellect - of the accumulated garbage that infiltrates the cerebral unconsciously and in similar fashion to that of a dream – the words that flow are free from critical and stumbling limitation that can inhibit the true nature of imagination. The source of the construct that is imagination that strives ultimately to transcend reality analogist to energy vying for the opportunity to ignite and light the cosmos.

More often the mechanics of placing word to virtual screen inhibit and interrupt the unrestricted flow of imagination into words with the likes of spelling, case, grammar and punctuation to retard. 

Foremost in my reluctance to be more expressive is the nagging knowledge that the message will be lost to all for lack of exposure or the desire to take into account that which is being communicated.  Otherwise to fall upon deaf ears and blind eyes thus begging the question: Why bother?

I am so lost for the lack of knowing who I am and what I am about and my reason(s) for being here and now.  And not unlike most people I have to believe.  Though if I had to depict how I see myself one could think of a body floating, alone in the void emptiness of space.  Connected by virtue of being one amongst all that is yet singularly different and identifiable within the context of my environment.  Floating, meandering void of contact or connection with anything on which to anchor my tired and tirelessly searching soul.