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[Earnest Haas](quotefancy.com)

I use to think I had something to say. Then came MySpace, FaceBook, Wordpress, Insta-Saccharine-Success.

 I use to think I had talent and could write! - And then I tried. I mean, I really, really tried. And then the words stopped. If they did come, if they do come now, it is with pain and agony.  Freedom of expression, with words painting images across the tapestry (or maybe 'canvas'?) of the blank page no longer flow. The blank white screen staring at me, the curse-ed cursor blinking loudly at me, waiting for me 'go'.

See, words are important. They have meaning: from the underlying "point" or content, to which words are used in what way. Letters combine to form words; words string onto others to form phases. These phrases can be stitched together in a myriad of ways: changing sentence structure and meaning, to birthing the most prefect line of thought.  The 'golden thread', the 'golden strand', if woven correctly, unites a composition: from beginning to end in the most seamless way.

And THAT is the problem. One of the problems.

The ease and freedom of flow ceased as I began to painstakingly deconstruct every thought, phrase, and word. The cost of Skill it seems, is drought. In the midst of thousands of words, thoughts, ideas, researched content, sources, and notations, the connections cease to appear.

Today: I am TRYING to no think, but to just write, no matter the crap or lack of anything that may come.

I used to think I had something to say. I was just waiting. I went about my life, narrating it to myself. I remember. I remember so much and yet so little.

My mind has begun to switch, swerve, and sway. They say its only my ADHD. Its never been this bad.  They say its just age: I’m not old, no where near it. None of my peers grasp for thoughts that slip out of their mind, loose words between the mind and the tongue, to be left stuttering. Words B-rrr-e  a  kkk...break.-apart- loosing meaning and form. What robs me of my mind, my thoughts?

I have so very many thoughts, but...not for today.

Today: I will not read what I wrote.  I will leave the ‘ink wet’ and ‘post’. I will post because even if I have nothing profound to say and can only scratch out rudimentary phrases, I Can still do that today: Speak/Write because I exist in this world.  My silence smothers me in loneliness.

..if a tree falls in the woods and no one is around to hears it, did it make a sound?’

...if I fall in my darkest deepest of woods and no one is around to hear the shrieks of utter terror and grief, did I actually make a sound? Did I exist today if no one Knew me?