al

I had a good birthday. Thanks for all the well-wishing 'n stuff. It was nice.

I've been thinking a lot about a lot of weird things. I think my thesis makes my brain short out or something.

Whenever something moves me deeply I get this welling up of words into my forebrain as my subconscious scrambles to describe what exactly it is that I feel and what it is that's causing me to feel that way, but doesn't quite succeed so all I get is a jumble of half-formed thoughts echoing inside my head. I get the feeling that good poets are the ones who can capture these thoughts, string together the vague ideas and sentence fragments into coherent pictures, setting the emotional and physical scene for the reader. I wish I could do that. I want to be able to share myself colorfully and precisely. I want to be able to move people in the same ways that I have been moved. I want to show others the beauty that I see in the world.

I expect it will come more easily with practice.

Or not, you never know. I've passed the peak of my learning curve anyway.