Thursday, March 01, 2007


I have the best ideas. I've known how to save the world, how to be a bazillionare, how to thread a needle from all the way across the room. I've had ideas on the best video games and tv shows that could ever be made, and have played the world's best music, just for me, within the safety of my own head. I've known it all, and have shown myself that I have the best ideas.

It's too bad I can't seem to share these ideas with anyone else. If I try, it tends to come out as gibberish, as color in a black-and-white world, or as a flute in a world of low frequencies. I can't explain them, can't share then, and thus cannot act on the ideas I've had.

It doesn't help much that I appear to be among those that can't understand my ideas. I know that my idea would work, if only I could remember exactly what my idea was in the first place. I know that I would amaze myself with my own brilliance, if only I could pull the idea back from the depths of my mind. I know that everything would be all better. If only.

But, alas, I cannot seem to help myself. I cannot share my own ideas with myself, so I'm stuck in a world where I know I could be better than I actually am if only I were better able to remember the better ideas I've already once begun to think.

Thinking about it really does make my head hurt, though. Really does try to put me to sleep. So maybe I should just go back to bed. Then, perhaps, amidst my dreams of seashores and country roads, I'll again know that I know something worth writing down. And then, just maybe, when I wake up, I'll actually remember it for a change.

If not, I'm certain that yet again I'll know that I knew what I knew I'd like to know, but then I will have again already forgotten.