When describing something, I often use completely unrelated things.
If I taste a new hot beverage my sister has made for me to try and I enjoy it,
I may end up saying,
" It tastes fuzzy like a rainbow,"
or
"Feels like silky cinnamon swirls met an ocean of cream from cows that always wore bows atop their heads."
With all the amazing and honest ways to describe things, I can't help but feel like it makes sense.
I know what I mean.
I can feel the sensation or see the thing or taste the memory.
I can understand it, but I often leave others puzzled.
How's the weather today?
It's like chocolate chip cookies out the oven when they're just a touch underbaked.
Hearing a trumpet solo can be described as a waterfall and a bee hive giving each other high fives.
Stripes and polka dots are my favorite things. Well that's a lie, they are some of my top choice enjoyment options, not necessarily my favorite things. How can you enjoy stripes or polka dots or tye dye? They aren't things like that. But they are enjoyable nontheless.
Sometimes my thoughts change direction midway through development, but instead of being abandonded, they overlap with the new notions.
It falters my words, a sudden pause, captivated by this alltogether unusual pairing of ideas.
My brain is a train yard, but the tracks keep tripping and split my thoughts.
They dart in merry tangents like fox cubs at play or storm about frantically like over stressed swarms of wasps.
If shrimp could fly, would they still peddle their little legs?
So far, this seems pretty unorganized?
A tad boring?
Just a little bit not what you were expecting? Great, I agree.
Most of the time I doubt how I'm getting my point across and tend to confuse myself in the process, because there's just so many things to talk about.
Each sentence is full of potential detours. There are other ideas sprouting and rooting as I think.
One track, one lane, one way, finish it.
Get to the end before you change gears!
No don't go down that way. Never go that way. If it isn't bad enough that my running dialouge is an eletric line of energy.
It shoots out and keeps extending, but not quite ending.
All the while side stories are popping up like dandilions along the way and then they spread out minor lines of electricity.
In addition to this, faded pictures shift along. You know how history channel has those pages of diaries and dramatic photographs transition their way across the screen, overlapping while a rich mahogany voice drones on? Yeah, that.
It doesn't end. It is a symphony of stimulation. Churning and charging forward, seeping into different directions like spilled water finding cracks in a worn table. It just goes.
I trace things constantly.
Entire rooms.
Outfits.
The nooks and crannies of every surface.
My mind's eye is always able to conjure up a sketch for things I can't see like the seems of people's underwear or shoe treads.
Blueprints of my surroundings are overlaying the scene before me.
Sometimes the great outdoors are exhausting.
Try tracing each leaf with its stem and veins, the twiggys, branches, the bark itself.
Don't forget the roots, yup, stretching underground.
Clouds refuse to cooperate, which is probably why I appreciate them so much.
Stars, now they twinkle. Go ahead, trace a shimmering light. See how many times your eyes can do it before they hurt. Then, shut your heavy lids and behold the mental imagery as it dances before you.
I forgot what my original point was. Do you know what it was? Huh.
Hula hoops, juggling, and sidewalk chalk are not as appreciated as they should be.
Shiny things really are distracting, but more so when they bring out one's sense of wonder, not the heady greedy, "I must have it!"
Wow, that was an abrupt topic swap. Well, onto the next! Never doubt my sincerity. Even my sarcasm and self-depreciating sass is based honestly enough.
Hmmm.....Have I strayed again? I was thinking about hula hoops. Sidewalk chalk is severely underappreciated. When it sporadically rains on a sunny day, the heatwaves that ripple around smell like stardust.
Oh no. If you've made it this far, you're probably wanting something spectacular to wrap this shindig up. The only thing I can say is, I cannot possibly be the only weirdo. I am niether the only weirdo of my variety. Are you curious about where your fellow weirdos are?
