when i see this blank page, i stop and think too deeply about what to write. the act of writing is like a burden that i must unload. writing, for me, entails a heftiness of being and a committment to pure thought and emotion. it becomes an exercise of the mind and of cool detachment. i want to be freed from the language of implied meaning and interpretative thought. i'd rather levitate in space than be grounded on paper.  how do i capture that lightness, that floating and fleeting quality of life? i do not think that this overly rational and calculated state of mind is any cause of hope but, no, i will write. let me defy the loss of words, let me claim this little blogspace, let me free my mind. endofstory.