Articulation

I stare at a blank white screen for over an hour and I produce nothing. Something is terribly wrong with that. Something about that irks me. My heart is full and heavy from a buffet of experiences, thoughts, epiphanies, conclusions, and questions, and yet, when I'm ready to puke back the material, I've got nothing but hiccups. It is like I just heard the best joke of my life, but all I can do is smile. It is like that fateful Tuesday on September 11th, 2001, when I was ready to cry my heart out, but all I could express was silence till out of all things, Enrique Iglesias' "Hero" made me break down. I'm ready to explode with some sort of emotion. But all I've got are these scribbles that are trying to be the catalyst for them rather than the expression of them.

In the midst of finals and papers, I hve become one of millions who have mastered the skills of articulating perfect thoughts in reference to Shakespeare and neuroscience, but in essence, there is no meaning. Yet, I find myself in the exact opposite predicament. I haven't been more clear about my dreams, my relationships, my future, my love, my God, my hope. But I can't tell you and I can't tell me. All I've got are these actions to prove them. I've been talking too much anyway. Feeling like an over-the-top preacher whose opinions and ephiphanies rock back and forth that it leaves both the thinker and the listener confused as hell, I have nothing left to say.

So watch me.