Sometimes I have questions.
I'm sure everyone has questions. But sometimes my questions float around inside my head like smoke, never becoming fully formed, or concrete thoughts. So I can't really say what the questions are, but still I know They're there. You ever get that?
I usually try to ignore the feeling. It's kind of disconcerting to have a question inside your head and not know what it is. So I try to ignore the impulse. Other times I do try to push against the smoke and figure out what the question is. But those times are rare... and rather frightening. I think maybe I don't want to know the answers to these questions that nibble at the edge of my consciousness. Like maybe the answer is some horrible thing.
For happy go-luck me, that's kind of strange. Everyone thinks I'm so on top of things. And most times I am... or at least, I try to be. But I had the feeling this morning. Almost like there's some unfinished business I need to attend to. And guess what I did when I got the feeling? I pushed it aside. It's gone now. But even as I write, I feel the unasked question on the edge of my consciousness, never ever ready to pounce.
Hmm. Is this too strange to share?