Why is this? The idea that what gets written down is a commitment of some kind? That what I might think is not "good enough" to be jotted down in indecipherable scrawl?
Or that it's impossible to dredge up one item from among so many half thought bits of mental flotsam, so that it's best to leave it all mixed up together, in some forgettable, inchoate mess, because it's unfair to pick one idea and not another? I honestly don't know.
Even this blog suffers from this, my mistaken notion that I'm not quite up to it at this particular moment. It's like saving all your nice clothes for the day that you are beautiful and skinny enough to deserve them, and spending all your actual life in preparatory joggers. So this is what I have so say, right now.
