An hour later (3 a.m.), I’m still awake. Brain is still active. Maybe I should just switch off the laptop and curl up under the covers; surely that would help?
I am aware something else in this brain of mine is wanting to come out – not by any surgical means; I merely need to let it seep through into the tips of my fingers and onto the keyboard, and onto the screen. Easy as that.
However, I keep stopping it.
In fact, I dare not write it on the page, for fear that its exposure to the world will cause it to wilt, like a plant exposed to the sun for too long.
I confess, it’s a thought that is so precious, I worry putting it into words will somehow restrict it to what I transcribe to the page.
Yes, on my mind, there’s a fiend that I can’t explain.