I miss words

I never thought that I'd say this - I miss writing. The agonizingly painful process of laying down words, stringing them together with spaces and punctuation and duct tape and hoping that it makes sense.

It's never come easy to me - ask my wife whenever I am under deadline - but it's also singularly satisfying. Words bounce around the inside of my skull all day - more than pictures do - colliding and coagulating in unexpected ways. They clog up my esophagus as I'm deep in thought, and then more often than not come out in a jumble of near incomprehension. My mouth, you see, is a comparatively blunt instrument. My fingertips, on the other hand (both of them, actually), are much more honed, and much more in tune with the bouncing in my skull.

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