Writer's Lament

I wish I could remember all the thoughts that slip through my mind. Often, when I'm concentrating on a problem or task that I have before me, an unexpected definition or explanation, an epiphany of some unrelated topic wanders in, and for a few moments, dominates my entire consciousness. The vagabond images displace whatever thought I'm involved in, then dissipate like steam from a hot cup of coffee leaving me wondering what just happened.

I would love to write the illusive thoughts in detail, to explore and hopefully follow them to the often astonishing promises they allude to. Unfortunately, few leave any trace. They leave no hint as they relentlessly evaporate from my memory as quickly as they formed. I can't define them, they are as ethereal as ghosts. If I don't create a physical record of their visit at that very instant they occur, all I have is the faint memory they were once here. And, of course, in those rare moments when I'm prepared and actually jot down these jewels, these illusive pearls of wisdom, all I have is this notepad filled with undecipherable scribbling.  Sentence fragments that ask more questions than they answer. I could write a book about those thoughts...  If only I could remember what they were...

George Mindling © 2013

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