After the medication wore away, I was left with a soup of words. It wasn’t a fetid thing, but it was un-refined, incoherent. The ingredients were there, but inexpertly mixed.

It wasn’t incomprehensible; it was simply kaleidoscopic.

This is something like what I was trying to say the other night. I’m not sure it makes as much sense now as it did then, but what sense it makes is more readily parsed by those outside the writer’s own skull.

Read more “Words are the children of reason”