There are so many things that I could write right now; the difficulty lies in selecting just the right thing. To the observer this would seem similar to my behavior of weeks previous. Jeffrey sits at his desk, staring at the page in front of him. But there is a marked difference. Previously, I was summoning from the void, attempting conjuring up an idea from the depths.

Now. Now I am not starting, I am considering. I am a sculptor, in front of a slab of marble, mind aflame, thousands of future forms flickering. I am considering, waiting for the true form of the stone to speak, waiting for the moment of clarity. I am discriminating.

In a way, it’s all too much. I find myself despairing that I do not possess the tools or skills of conveyance, that my senses will not be fine enough to work the taste and texture of my feeling into something that can be appreciated, let alone understood.

I despair, but I will not be afraid to try. I close my eyes, and lose myself, and let the thought rise. A memory long forgotten that might give body to the intangible, that may give a voice to a feeling beyond the scope of explanation. Rather than a hollow, uninteresting history of events, this memory is the essence of that feeling, and as such might serve.

It is night. A boy lies on his back, staring at the night sky that he has only truly seen for the first time. He is in West Texas on a camping trip, a simulation of a cattle drive. But this does not matter to the boy, nor do the biting mosquitos or the unfamiliar smell of horses; all that matter are the millions upon millions of stars above him, projected upon a cloudless, pitch-black sky, miles from any light. Tucked into his sleeping bag, he sees the sees the endless sea of twinkling lights.

For hours he gazes up. Shooting stars dance in front of him, planets glide through the heavens, constellations gleam. He is in awe; though he wonders if he oughtn’t seem small and insignificant, he doesn’t. He feels right, like he belongs, though he does not understand why. Head full of questions which do not have answers, he slowly closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep, dreaming of an ocean of stars.