Sometimes you write just to be writing, the same way you speak just to be speaking. Have you ever searched for something but you didn’t know what you were looking for until you found it because that’s all you could do? That’s how cathartic writing and speaking is. You throw random subjects out, not in hopes to be understood by someone else but to understand yourself because some of us are deep enough to get lost in our selves and we just haphazardly let words blunder out so we can find a life raft in them so we don’t drown in ourselves. We hope that a few words formed into a sentence will become an epiphany and will some how save us from ourselves because the cure is in our own ideas. We wander around in ourselves, rummaging in the trash can of our consciousness for something meaningful and somehow tangible in this scatter brained abstraction we call the ego. When we find it, it will be something so obvious and we will ask ourselves how we kept on missing it but that wont take away from how profound it was. These are the words. You can find a home in their minimalistic simplicity. These are the dialectics that run mind body and soul. Take comfort in them, take your time with them, take shelter under them and take understanding and peace from them but never and I mean never take them for granted because when all is lost, all you’ll have are the words.