I try to write what's on my mind, although my mind is a constant jumble of unending motion I can only reach into and pull out a few memories, or thoughts.
Still, I'm compelled to write. The thoughts arrive, I try to take the best for presentation and reveal these moments with the limited method we call "writing".
My effort can seem incomplete, worthless and leave the feeling it's a thankless endeavor to make the effort. It's like throwing rocks into the darkness and hoping for a sound, when they strike.
For those that don't write, and probably should, there are few things that reveal who your are you are, or leaves a legacy. So much of life is lost forever and - other than photographs or recollections - your entire existence can be only a short memory on a Saturday afternoon.
In Case You've Wondered
My blog is where my wandering thoughts are interspersed with stuff I made up. So, if while reading you find yourself confused about the context, don't feel alone. I get confused, too.
If you're here for the stories, I started another blog: scratchingforchange.blogspot.com
One other thing: sometimes I write words you refuse to use in front of children, or polite company, unless you have a flat tire, or hit your thumb with a hammer.
I don't use them to offend; I use them to embellish.