I may be clarity. The moments where the chaos clears enough for cohesive thought. When words don’t bleed together and thoughts jumble into a single inarticulable ball. Sometimes it just works. Sometimes I just work. Clarity may be my name. It may be what I do in all this. I calm the storm or I push though it. It comes with an almost numbness. Articulate yet vacant. Thoughts may not be the antithesis of words. They flow freely. Stream of consciousness I suppose one could say. But there’s intention… A vague thought… A connecting thread to identity… Something more than rambling. Pointed and clear.

Perhaps that strange feeling is me.