From Ideas to Stories

Lately, I've been thinking a lot of ideas. A lot.

A few weeks ago, July 4th actually, I was with friends out in Chelsea, and jotted this down on my iPhone: "I like thinking many ideas, but I don't know that I'd put many of them into practice, or sincerely believe in those thoughts/ideas. I think of too many [ideas] to indiscriminately accept all of them [as Truth]."

So, I've had all these ideas, but I've yet to bring them to light. Mostly because I don't know how to bring them to light. My ideas are incomplete, and the only way to make them complete, or somewhere near completion, I would have to write them down, or speak them aloud. I hate doing that. I hate speaking before I'm really sure of what I mean; what I really believe.

Of what have I been thinking?

For starters, beginning sentences with prepositions is a great grammar-release!

Okay, okay, okay.

My thoughts have generally leaned towards the state of humanity.

"Oh, how perfectly vague."

"I know."

But if I become any more specific I promise you, I will go back to the state of humanity, which I am sure, as we all observe, is in a constant state of flux and discontent. Those who are content are so because they know what it is to be discontent.

Hello, Humanity. I'm glad to greet you like an old friend.

But since I don't want to overthink, or rethink, or drag on for too long, I've decided it best to illustrate any ideas or thoughts I have with stories. I don't know why it took me so long to acknowledge this. Every other author and writer has!

Whatever made me think I was better at writing essays than writing vignettes or extended metaphors?

Of all that I've thought this past month I am confident in that idea: that the best way to portray the 'state of humanity' is to illustrate it. To gather up its many images, smells, tastes, words, and feelings, not into some neat little box and leave it there, but for the neat little box to be opened!

Like Pandora's box! But without all the sickness and sin, and horrible things--they're already in the world. Ooh, we don't need more of that.

I know that we learn from our mistakes both in and out of our control, but that does not make me wish bad times upon even the worst of my enemies, and even then, I have no enemies. I live life as though all were friends: yes, it is denial, and yet confirmation that these friends, like my thoughts, though I entertain them, are no less real, or lost, or hungry, or wishful, than I am.

I may not re-open Pandora's Box, but I'll label it for you.