To mould thoughts into words and then write them down is like capturing a bird and putting it into a cage.
Silence is vast space in which thoughts wander freely.
Writing, journalling, blogging - the urge comes and goes.
The desire to write, communicate, crystallise thoughts, analyse, to make concrete the fleeting ephemeral particles of mind matter - it hardens the illusion that I am a person with thoughts, feelings, personality, beliefs, and experiences that matter, that need to be externalised.
Suddenly I like the word poo.
Perhaps I should write pooetry.