Tuesday, January 25, 2011

One Thing

One thing I won't write about.  Despite how open I usually am, there's ONE THING I can't open up about.

I'm too afraid to even journal it in my own personal private journal.

I won't even type it out into a draft and delete it.  I don't want it to be real, and I don't want it to exist.

Putting it into words seems like it would give it 'life'.... and THIS. ONE. THING.... I want it to be 'not-alive'.

But I SO want to write it out.  It's been a frustration for more than a year-  but less than five years.
It's been a confusion and an ANNOYANCE in my thought process for way-to-long......  

When I write,  I empty my brain out.

Writing is like going to the dump for my brain; pouring out my thoughts like one would empty out their 30 gallon trash can in an effort to find the lost remote that the 3 year old confessed to throwing away last week.
Dumping my thoughts out enables me to 'sort through them'.

After I've written freely and thoughtlessly, I'm able to go through what was confused in my head, and categorize it;  like a filing cabinet that is morbidly disorganized- and then it gets emptied, and then alphabatized..... that's what I do, um... in my head...

WOW.  I sound fruity.

So.  I want to write about THIS. ONE. THING.  I want to sort it and analyze it and pick it apart, and alphabatize it, and make it organized and find reason and resolve for why it is that "it" is driving me crazy.

But I won't.

It's a secret.  It's a feeling and a confused emotion. It's not real and it has no life.

It taunts me and it jumbles me up temporarily, but I have to learn to "take my thoughts captive".  I have to FIGHT-THE_GOOD-FIGHT and overcome.  Paul had a thorn in his flesh- but he never confessed what it was- and I guess I do, too.  (Hey Paul.  Wassup.  I feel ya, brotha...- fist bump.)

Stupid Thorn.

I need some tweezers.

Wait!?!  Make that two thorns.


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