Strikes a chord or rings a bell
Whatever the saying that catches what IT does.
Yes I say to myself. Yes. That’s it.
A tumble of words fly around in my brain. Whole sentences sometimes.
A vastness in a second.
I grab something. Anything. To capture it before it’s gone
Lessons of I’ll write that idea down later learned in the blankness of the forgotten that is left when I don’t.
Notes that are one word only. Images of entirety held in time by a syllable or two. Volumes of works reduced to minuscule expressions of saved for later.
For me to return to and breathe life into when I have time. Or thoughts. Or. Or.
Scraps of papers litter my spaces with quickly scribbled sentences and paragraphs even. The chaotic running screaming needing to escape torrent of me falling out and onto the paper. To be made sense of later. To be given order and expanded and made more. Later.
My phone full of notes that I have types feverishly in an attempt to not lose what has broken the surface and deserves to be rescued and made safe from the void of later if it isn’t somehow made real. Now.
So much tucked away and treasured and held tight for someday. One day. Eventually. Soon. Maybe. Definitely. Tomorrow. But not now.
For now I’ll just jot this down so I don’t forget.