It’s a gray day, but not a foggy one, except right here at the keyboard where my thoughts are moving like a simile I can’t quite nail.
Close, but out of reach.
Yesterday my brain started out sharp and zippy, but the weather seems to have opinions on that. We’ll see how much wisdom I can eke out on this, the very last day of January.
Let’s start with a low bar. Avery low bar. Like an on the floor bar.
Maybe I can meet that. Today, that’s a stretch.
That’s the thing when your world is words, sometimes they show up, all aligned and ready for duty, and other times, they just don’t. They’ve packed their bags for places unknown, perhaps lounging by a pool under an impossibly blue sky with the kind of cocktail words would drink.
White out for a wild party?
It’s one way to undo mistakes.
I might have gone a little far down this wordy path, but it’s kind of fun to imagine what words might do while we’re not looking. I bet it’s not anything within their definition, because I suspect even words want the freedom to define themselves.
Deep or weird, take your pick. Both is also an option.
It’s seems we’ve gotten through this post with only the wisdom of letting words be who they are and not expecting them to be reliable, which, typed out like this, doesn’t sound like much wisdom as all.
But take what you want and leave the rest, much like the words did with me this morning. Have a lovely Wednesday.
A Bit to Read 
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