If I don’t get the strain of thought going on at the precise moment it bursts out I lose it. Its a manantial, a fountain of sorts where some else is in control del cran, who turns it on and who turns off? The Shadow knows …. EL caso es que si I loose the thought well, pierdo el tren como dicen los gabachos, I loose my train of thought. What’s even more curious are the efforts I do to keep the chain of events rolling on its tracks, in fact it has nothing to do with a train. It’s a juggling act. Its close resemblance would be trying to hold a snowflake on the palm of my hand, wait, some else has already said that, rats! Either way it applies. But I show the wrong slide. It’s a juggling act. Have you ever repeated to yourself words in your head just to keep the elucidating instant on its tracks? That’s what I do, specially when my damn connection lags in opening blogger so I can quickly set fingers to keyboard so as to spill on the screen the very thought that was the rush, the joy in it.
When do I realize it is something new and exciting for me? I suppose it is when I feel the rush, the pleasure in pursuing the idea to put it down in words.
Thoughts, contrary to popular demand, at least with me, are things that have been incubating for a while, however meaningless these thoughts might be, I have experienced they come out better if they have had the time to repose in the subconcious of previous learning, as if new input needs to check itself with the neural network of the ancients that my DNA carries and all approved previous knowledge, as if it needs the grid of the elders to come out and say, this is so, and this is that.
Then they burst out, offer a small glimpse, a small window so that we can see the fountain where it springs as the train were thoughts travel on passes by. There are not many station stops for this train, so you’ll just have to jump on it as soon as you can, be a vagabond, un trampa, en luffare on the ride of one’s life.
38 Han clachado