Well then

It seems I have lost my voice. Not my physical voice. But. Formerly rambling, chain of thought sentences are all that’s left in my brain now, a soggy mush that used to produce bouts of imaginative ooze in some form or another, now is lost in a sea of big words and small thoughts and small words amidst big thoughts. Like that fruit jello stuff that no one really likes to eat. I’m detached from my own life and my own head. It seems when I was young and eager and full of my own zealous intelligence that I had no shame for what was there to say? And where was my shame? And now an invisible audience freaks me out man. Maybe I’m too full of myself, or maybe i’m scared that that’s what it will look like anyway. Or maybe the slog of the same topics and the same stressors over and over through the mundanity(is that a word) of graduate school life is dumbing me down, or making it impossible for me to think in real-world ways. Jill and I once or twice or thrice discussed this phenomenon-getting dumber while paying to become smarter in the eyes of society writ large. Maybe I should go back to hand writing, but then I type so much faster than I write anymore. So here I am. Rambling in all my hubris.

When I drift off to sleep I think of the best things. I feel more myself and more powerful and more me. Maybe I should keep a notebook by my head for writing down these things, but probably I’d just get a bunch of non-sequiters upon awaking. Pancake dog, mountains of bunnies, psychedelic skies, and the like.

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