processing

I write to write, because I can't not.  I certainly don't mean that without writing, I would literally die.  That's rather dramatic.  And the dangerous type of drama.  The kind that got Romeo and Juliet into such trouble.  That story makes me crazy.

What I mean by not being able to not write is that, without writing, my life seems to lose its quality.  My mind doesn't work as well.  Writing is my way of keeping my thoughts in check.

In the not-so-rare case that a certain idea takes root in my head, and begins to expand into my every thought, I know it's time to write it down.  It's a way of taking the power back, so to speak, from my own brain.

The great thing about writing something down is that I get to explore it completely, and give it all of the attention it's been demanding from me.  At this point, I let go.  This idea that I've been restraining and trying for so long to keep from taking me over completely finally gets to to run free from my head into words.  I write and write and take all of the time that I need to do this idea justice.

Once that's over, I own it.  That idea is mine.  I get to put it away or take it back out on my own terms.  It's no longer swimming around in my head, incessantly distracting me from anything else.  And at this point, I feel relief.  My head is once again clear and able to process what it needs to.