Broken Fingers

All I got is garbage tonight (well, I thought last nights blog was garbage too…but I soldiered on) so I’ll spare you. Some nights my brain is a like raging rapids…other nights it’s a dried up riverbed. I wish I had more control over it…but I don’t. I’m forever at its mercy. Its like everything I want to say is at the tip of my fingers…its right there…but I can’t punch the keys. There’s a frayed connection somewhere. Meditation is supposed to help, but how can 20 minutes of peace compete with 12 hours of confusion? At least the days are getting shorter…