where's the man in the moon?

I don't understand why I don't keep a written journal. Since I don't get online all of the time. It would be very useful for me to keep some kind of a notebook wherein I can just write down thoughts as they unfold: the good, the bad and the ugly.

I don't know if I'm just lazy, or too afraid to discover how terrible I really am at this. I think it's a little bit of both. I never really feel that I am able to express myself adequately. Something always gets lost between the process of thinking & feeling, and writing down thoughts on paper.

It's like trying to hold a handful of water in the tightness of your palms. Once it reaches your mouth, whatever wetness that remains is never really enough to quench your thirst. Because so much of that precious liquid has slipped off through the slits of your fingers, simply from the act of your hands trying to arrive towards its destination.

This is as close as I'll ever come to describing what it feels like to constantly lose: words, feelings, thoughts, moments that make up a portion of your being. It's an act of love that never ends up in the possession of the receiver. It is always unclaimed.

I've always felt that I had a refuge in poetry. But lately, I can't make anything happen with words. It's frustrating at the end of the day to have this aching feeling of having missed an opportunity to have taken off, and landed on the moon.

It's just a thought that plagues you, maybe, for half a second. It's that elusive thought that suggests you have the ability to stop time, or maybe slow it down or increase its pace; even for just a millisecond. Nobody will notice. It doesn't matter. It's not a free invite for all. It's just a small window that opens up and takes you to that place where your dreams unfold in secret. Not to be remember when you wake up of course! But for that moment, or two, when you remember that feeling…. it makes you wonder!