john | March 2, 2021, 4:30 a.m.
Just to delete them.
Maybe it's therapeutic. I write it as if I'm going to publish the darn thing. But in the end I don't. I never do, there are some even as the first word is written, and rewritten. I know it's never going to see more than the delete.
Why would it, it's there for only one thing, to express an idea I want to tell you about, but can't. It's not because I am unwilling, it's because there are some things I am overwhelmed by an emotion. It's, odd. I can't understand it, I can't explain it. At times when it comes to what I'm writing, I can, I know the reason. It's when I don't.
It's why I rabbit hole into things, I can understand it if I immerse myself. But in order to understand things that I can only feel, is hard. It's as if the moment in time to stop what I'm doing appears before me, and each time I know that the path is there. It's the option, it doesn't mean it's the wrong one.
There are many ways to attack the idea but none of them hold, they are all repelled. It's bizarre, the struggle to understand it at times is infuriating. Yet I try.
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