I find that slowing down my thinking process to the pace of writing is sometimes very difficult. What’s more, seeing them displayed on a page arouses my impatient, perfectionist instinct. I want to correct the carefully chosen words. I feel the carefully chosen words give no justice to what it is I’m expressing. I want to say so much and so clearly in all the ways I know how. With the many ways to say them, with the ability, or skills and esteem that I have, I want to encompass barriers. I believe it is me fighting limitations, fighting to become universal, or one with the universe.

Aware Am I

I keep reading that to try to be aware or to try to be enlightened means that you aren't or won't. I understand this very well, I think. I have thought that in realizing that I know nothing, I know quite a lot. I mayhap even have figured it all out. Thus, I have introduced myself into electronically cataloguing this wonderment, tick tacking away at keys, for the moment, resting my free hand.