I think I think
Sometimes I don’t even know what I’m thinking. “Is that possible?” I ask myself. I mean, I’m here…all present and accounted for. Who better to have much any idea what is passing the time in my mind. Sometimes I think I’m not noticing anything, I’m a wide open, four lane highway, and all the information driving in from every direction is just passing through me at racing speeds, and all I observe is the roar of the high traffic.
Sometimes I think, I’m not thinking in words like this. I think I’m thinking in sounds, in onomatopoeias, or tones like Thai (I don’t know Thai). Sometimes I know I’m thinking in gestures, armbends and wind, gaudy facial expressions we would all make if we were more open. Like jowling, sometimes instead of thinking, “I’m bored” I think I think “jowling”. Maybe I think in old New Yorker covers, or M.C. Escher never ending flights of stairs. Sometimes I just imagine a tiny person hitchiking along my neurons, actually strolling through my brain, hoping to catch a ride on one of those lightning-speed neural flashes that’s passing by, this little person is wanting to hitchhike a thought, and someday if a thought ever stops to pick up that little person wandering, maybe I’ll know better what I’m thinking.