about last night
I am not entirely certain where this is going, or what I should say. I find myself starting to write something, and then pausing to consider - and to then delete it all only to begin again. This is the written equivalent of lurching through conversation, except that unlike speech, I can take back what I have said or consider it more fully before I finally commit it to permanence and receivership. The ideas bidden are not born as they are conceived and so they are allowed to develop and grow - and I can sometimes see what kind of monstrosity they might become and abort them before they begin. So perhaps I should remain silent, and say nothing? It might cause less agida for all parties involved.
Except that I have never been a voice for silence. Keeping things pent up inside - whether by choice or because there hasn't been anyone there to share them with tears me apart from the inside. It is well and good to hold on to your ideas until you have a feeling for them and are prepared to express them with the rest of the world... but you can't hold everything in forever: as you take of this world, you must return to it.
I don't know, and I don't understand - which is why I share.
I am not making a statement, I am asking a flock of questions.
I suppose that someday I might eventually learn to keep my mouth shut, but thus far, doing so has hurt me far more than anything I have ever said.