Sometimes I just don’t have a lot of words to write. Which isn’t exactly true because of course I always have infinite words to write. I could write forever and never stop and I would still have words left. But sometimes words are too concrete, with shape and weight and angles and sometimes I don’t want to have any of those things.
I think I like myself a bit better now though. And we should all like ourselves. After all, we spend a lot of damn time with ourselves. More than is good for us probably, which is maybe why we go through periods when we are so tired of ourselves we just want to stop talking.
One day, I’ll be OK with concreteness and heft and direction. But today, weightlessness and wordlessness is just fine by me. There are so many things I could feel and I could ponder and plan and feel slighted or joyous or any of a number of ways about any number of things. But I think I’ll take a break from all of that, at least for today.
Maybe tomorrow I’ll have more substantial words.