no words

There are thoughts and ideas I have that only come out if I look away from the computer as I type. I put my face down on my knee (my knee is bent up, with my foot on my chair. I rest my face on my knee using my pursed lips as a cushion). I wonder if my fingers are in the right place on the keyboard. I listen to the very fast rattling tap tap tappidy tap of my fingers. I look up occasionally to see if I spelled words like “occasionally” correctly (I hadn’t). My fingers keep moving. I’m not even sure what I’m typing because the thoughts are moving through my fingers almost before I know what I’ve thought.
…
I looked up at the screen and I typed and typed and wrote a thoughtful piece here, maybe 1k words, about the restrictions that come when I consider my readers’ responses on many different levels. It was a good piece. It was interesting. It addressed some timely and thoughtful issues.
It was bullshit, though. It was me trying to stay away from the face-squashed-into-my-knee kind of writing I wanted to do. I’m not letting myself do it. I’m not letting myself because I’m not able to.
The word paintings I want to share aren’t here. I can’t afford to let them out.
I’m not sure this blog is the right space for the writing I need to do.
Everything I type isn’t what I want to be need to be writing. As much as I can write and write and write I still really mostly truly deeply have no words.