"any word but wait"

 Blargh, those nights when I want to have something to say but can't get it out of my brain into my fingers, out of my fingers onto the page.  And I don't know if I want to talk to you, void, to myself, or to some individual person or persons

 

I want to talk about how to ask people real questions, find out how they think about the world, what they're fighting, what they're fighting for, what words they go back to over and over again, what are they scared of happening, what are they scared won't happen?

 

And some of this is the logical extension of childhood coping techniques, wanting ever more information in order to make sure that I'm still functioning just like I was a real person, a regular person, 'cause even if I can't quite get the insides right, I can probably get the outside close enough to be hard to clock.  But there's also a part about wanting to form connections, wanting to be alive in the world, wanting to play with the strange alchemies of new people, or old people in new ways.  

 

Be brave, omnia, then braver still. Stay resilient enough to always pick yourself up, stay vulnerable enough to get knocked down.  You know, the usual stuff.