There is a literary technique which during high school,
walked me, holding my hand,
from the typical teen confusion
into a more mature
-with less borders but more style -
kind of confusion
They call it
stream of consciousness
I remember it was somehow difficult to pronounce during exams
and as soon as my mind focused on the core concept
it triggered such a random flux of images
that exams suddenly lost their meaning to me
as I was wandering through my endless stream
of loud thoughts
emotions
memories
wishes
tastes
dreams
fears
Now that I am a bit older
and much more confused
this stream of life has always came along with me
until it became a well established part of my daily dimension
What scares me know
is when it stops
And this is more or less what is going on with this posts
as if my brain had been filled up with wood shavings
or holed up into hibernation
or simply
left for one of its wonderings around
I'll be waiting for its return
Meanwhile
I'll be listening
p.s. my being without the laptop and the iphone
is certainly adding a great deal of inconvenience
:)
