What happens when writing? What happens when talking? It’s different than thinking, isn’t it. Thinking is an enclosed space, very enclosed. In your noggin. Then when you open your mouth, it escapes. The space it escapes to may have some bearing on the reach it has and the effect it has on your experience and ingestion of the information.

And writing is also that way, it seems. Writing to an audience of zero affects me differently than this blog, for instance. Or writing an email to one person. And the person also matters – imagining the way they read/listen.

I was kind of holding my feelings and ideas in for a while, like a few weeks. Then I attempted to let it out verbally, to explain it in a way that makes sense. It wasn’t easy. And by letting it escape from my head, it lost some of its intimacy. It dissipated. Dispersed. I had to kind of start over with it, reunderstand it. It’s logical but odd. Counterintuitive.