Saturday, January 2, 2016

Conversations in my Head

I'm positive I'm not the only one who has experienced this.

I'm driving around town and a thought runs through my mind. It may be something I needed to remember or part of a list of things I need to do. More likely, though, it's a few words or a sentence either from the radio or in conversation with someone riding with me that proves to be the impetus for an idea for a blog post.  It becomes a running conversation with brilliant points being made, cogent sentences and it could go on for a few minutes.  My last thought is:  Will I remember all the ideas and points that just ran through my head long enough for me to write it down?  More often than not, by the time I get anywhere near my computer or a notebook or just a piece of paper, the thoughts are in the wind, long gone, out the door, disappeared and lost in a puff of wind.

The same thing happens as I'm about to fall asleep. The thoughts come swirling through my head like a locomotive barrelling though the tunnels of my mind. I get up to make notes and it's as if the doors to the locomotive have opened and all the ideas have flown the coop, down the tunnel and are, once again, in the wind.

I can't tell you how many incredibly wonderful blog ideas I've had in the last few years that have never been written as brilliantly as when they were writing themselves in my head.  I need a recorder in my head, something, where I can just push the button to record all those incredibly intelligent streaming thoughts and ideas and have them available for playback when I'm ready to write a blog.

A tape recorder, even attached to my body, isn't the answer. Many times, when these attacks of brilliance happen, I'm not alone and appearing to talk to myself when in the company of others gives rise to a whole host of other problems.

I do have a fairly decent memory, though, so dear readers, rest assured that the posts you do read here are carefully thought out, at least in the beginning.  That stream of conversation I experience elsewhere has a habit of showing up once I actually start writing about something.

Now, where was I?

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