Why is it that my thoughts are always unfinished and my mind jumps from place to place? I’m constantly up in the air no matter how much I really want to be grounded. If you look through my Finder, I have countless unfinished essays, letters, notes, Moleskin journal entries, and blog posts all orphaned and waiting for my return. They are like thoughts that are just floating in the air, in balloons either waiting to be popped or set free. My room is filled with balloons and I feel smothered by them right now.
A therapist would say that it’s because I am running from thoughts and emotions and it’s probably true. (Everything is about that.) I never let them mature because I can foresee its pain even in its infancy.
Perhaps, it’s all just one giant balloon.
