Like so many people I meet, I am full of ideas. Some of them are pretty silly, such as "What if everyone was born knowing the date of their death?" or "I wonder if Spock would like waffles?" But still, I am stuck with them swirling around in my brain.
For some reason, the accumulation of ideas accelerates when accompanied by shower water. Why is it that getting in the shower takes me to some other zone where ideas swim around me? It makes getting ready for ANYTHING very complicated, as I can't just soap up, rinse, and get out. No, I have to imagine what Napoleon would say if he was forced to listen to rap music, or what would happen if we were all living in an alternate universe and dreaming up this one. Suddenly, the water is getting cold, and the alternate universe curls down the drain with all the stubby leg hairs.
Sometimes I manage to scratch out a haiku or something, and wonder if I am a writer.
I'm not really a writer.
I'm a thinker. I think way too much-- and I am sure someone out there probably nods and says, "Yes, that is me to a T. I think way too much. Someone make my brain shut up, please!" Of course, that is assuming that someone stumbles across these words. Maybe they will just sink into the great cesspool of cyberspace.
This is my meager attempt to write. I can't keep a proper journal, as my crappy hands don't agree to holding a pen or pencil for long. I am going to try to tame some of these thoughts and memories and see if there is a way to add to the Great Conversation.
That is, if everyone else hasn't adjourned to some pub and plugged their ears.
