I'm Flailing Now

What I mean by “typical” is typical angst. I cannot read tumblr without getting sad or creating and recreating moments from my past. I think of them as they were, but then re-design them to be a “what if” moment or a less dramatic moment, or a more dramatic moment. Whatever it is I do, I pull apart these moments. Fuck moments. Why the fuck can’t we just live in the now? Oh right, because the past and those moments dictate what the “now’ is. 

Sometimes, when you have so much to write about, its very likely that you won’t write about at all. What topic do you address first? If that idea has so much layer, coming from so many different directions and places in your mind, how can you possibly describe it? In A Midnight in Paris, Owen Wilson’s character talks about the inability for any art form to describe a city. But every thought we have, comes from so many different places and so many different experiences and mindsets and conversations, so how can we possibly use an art to describe it either? This post, i had no idea I was going to write about this. It just comes. Once you start dictating words, the ideas in a stream of consciousness work as you go. At least, that’s how I go. I can’t stop. I could take a break from this paragraph and stare out the window and think, but then this thought would be over. It would be interrupted somehow and there would be a new thought in its place. So is there an on and off switch for thinking? Or thinking deeply? Or is it that there is a stop and start of different thoughts, some just being deeper than others? Are we even always thinking? In moments of meditation and in moments where thoughts have the ability to just come in and out, are we still thinking? Where do those ideas go? Are they inherently with us no matter what? I was going to title this “flux” but I ended up writing about something different. But maybe that means this entire post was about flux too.