compilation of thoughts

i wake up some mornings and find myself sitting in a burst of writing energy. i can always tell because the voice in my head is loud and dominant, no other thoughts can even stretch a toe onto center stage. the words come in low and slow and irregular, somehow weighted down with symbolism and significance.

writing is a beautiful and sometimes daunting way of life. to me, it feels like home, so apart of me and essential to me that i would die if i lost it.

as i sit here drinking my coffee i think about all the thoughts spindling out at the fringes of my mind. thoughts of how morning, contrary to popular belief, is my favorite part of the day. how i sometimes think that a perfectly peaceful moment such as this one could be obliterated by a incoming bomb and wayward plane. how fast the environment would change, from order to chaos in a matter of seconds.

i think about how i drink my coffee and from whom i learned the action. do i look like her or him or do i have my own style? i think, if i could study how everyone drank thier coffee/tea i could really learn alot about who they are in that moment. i think about how lucky i am to have all my limbs and digits and to have no noticeable physical malady. i think about how one toasts their marshmellow also says alot about who they are. and what about the way we sleep, on our backs, on our sides, on our stomachs, not at all? how different we are, there is so much to learn about eachother.

i suppose my wonder is a human wonder, what makes us us and what makes this world we live in? all the little things at the fringes of our minds all the seemingly meaningless interactions throughout our days are, in fact, our lives. perhaps that's why Virginia Wolff found it so enticing to write about one woman's life over the course of one day. she couldn't fit it all, there were too many details, too much richness, too many complications and things she couldn't put into words.

as writers how well do we let our readers know us? what do we put in and what do we leave out?

when i have finished writing something i enjoy a happiness that can only be compared to winning some award you're very proud of. i feel like i have fulfilled some essential urge and i sit back, for a moment, satisfied.