Psychic Paws

At some point, I stopped looking at words as they appeared. Everywhere. The reality hit me; words can’t and don’t always portray what I am truly feeling, or thinking. Sometimes, there are no words. By the same token, I can drive down the same road, knowing where it will lead me, but it never changes. Unless, there has been major weather that has somehow altered the physicality of that road.

Words are thrown around loosely. Similar to the road that is always traveled on. I think of words lately, a lot like a road. Every grain of sand is like a thought before it becomes the word. Every small rock is the formation of the word. And every smooth surface becomes the paper on which all words will eventually be written; a road well-traveled.

Sometimes, I feel the purpose of using our words, really is just to think out loud. Because what we say and write, is put out there to the universe. And when we finally do use our words, is it our soul that speaks, or pure unapologetic ego that has to get the last word in?

Many blessings, Sandi