A part of me dies, too.

I write. For the satisfaction. Of proving that my mind is functioning. That I have thoughts. It’s essential. That I put a thought in writing. Because that makes it easier to ponder. Seeing the thought. In written form.  Allows me to elaborate. To construct. To build an edifice. Of thought. I am able to pack a suitcase. Full of thoughts. To take with me. Wherever I go. Portable thoughts. So easy to carry. Too often I forget a thought. Too many thoughts to record in my mind. A clutter. It helps. That I keep track of thoughts. In a blog. In published form. Not so much for others to see and read. But for me to review. I hate to see a thought perish. When that happens. A part of me dies, too. --Jim Broede