Synaptic meltdown.

Sometimes I think that perhaps my brain has actually gone numb.

I blink after staring at a pile of rocks for half an hour and realise that I have no idea what I have been thinking about. A swarm of half thoughts flitter through my mind, and then are lost.

I am conscious that there is so much that I have to write about, so much that I am missing out that would be of interest to people. I know that each time someone emails me and asks whether I am happy, I skirt around the question. But each tiny detail is like a pebble on a mountain. To describe the shape and colour of the pebble is one thing, but without the mountain there is no sense to it.

I have been getting lost in the plate tectonics of things, and now I am trying to drag myself to the surface and lay out all my pebbles and twigs and bits of bones in a nice neat pattern on the ground.

It may take some time for me to be able to make a clear picture of the shape of things.