Verbals and Nounites

Isn't it peculiar the wanderings of mind and attention that some of us have when setting to a task?

Having decided it was high time to write another post, I opened up Google+ in my browser. After viewing a few updates and "+1"-ing something, I searched for some sort of "Post Blog" button in vain and realized that Google+ was not the correct avenue for my intent. At about the same time, I also realized there was something I needed to do (brush my teeth) that I could combine with thinking about what to write. However, by the time I had actually opened the Blogger platform and gotten up from my desk, the fleeting thought of dental hygiene had long since dissipated and I was left wondering what it was exactly that I had gotten up to do. I believe there's an old joke of Bill Cosby's (correct me if I'm wrong) about the button each of us has our our respective backsides which enables us, just as we are sitting down again, to remember why we had gotten up before. Apparently mine works.

Well, there you have it, a long, rambling introduction with little point but a little nice verbal imagery for your reading pleasure.

I sometimes think my writing style belongs in a time that is past, in which writing served more to stimulate the intellect and provoke the thinkage of great thoughts. Or at least it seems to me that older writing spends a great deal more time simply basking in the pleasure of language, and all the ways it can express the human experience, and more importantly, recreate that experience for the reader. These days, I even find myself needing to re-read lines or entire paragraphs that contain longer and more complex thoughts, though they may be intended for a public audience.
I've also sometimes puzzled at my apparent lack of vocabulary when speaking versus the veritable dictionary in my head that gleefully offers words that may or may not have been used commonly a century ago. I know it's not really that much of a mystery, particularly since I'm generally more introverted than not and that social interactions that involve using words can often bring a restriction in my brain, like a very mild sort of anxiety. My words are more free when I'm alone and can see them coming out on a page or my computer screen. They willingly meander out of the recesses of my mind and spill into my brain and, instead of "Why can't I think of the words I want?" my internal question is, "What words do I want to use?"

However, as a few of my good friends could tell you, the use of words never particularly eludes me and I'm generally good at talking. Sometimes I'm good at talking too much.

However, I'm always best at talking in two particular instances: First, in which I know the subject matter very well and am eager to share it (typically prefaced with "Did you know..." or "Actually...") and second, when I say whatever the heck happens to be wandering around my brain at that particular instance.

Now it just seems like this is one rather long and narcissistic post. (Someone should make up a tongue twister with the word "narcissistic" in it.) Well, in my defense, it is almost 3:00am and I am not in the best of sorts, as a nasty cold is currently keeping me up. What else do I have to muse but myself, my misery, my ecstasy, my complacency or transcendency? Why yes, I did just make up that word. No, I haven't actually contemplated any of those, and what? I'm sorry, I think my ears are stuffy - did you say "saw the worried programs"or "solve the world's problems?"

Well I'm afraid my tiredness has closed the rusty word gates, stopping the flow of my verbals and nounites from transcendencing my nervous system into the great beyond. Funny how all of this was created by neural impulses. Or was it? Am I merely the "electricity in my brain"? I'll leave you with that thought. Goodnight.