When words scroll across the screen of my mind, sometimes I imagine writing on a tablet—more like an ancient stone tablet than a modern screen, with my thoughts guiding the chisel in effortless inscription. At other times, words flow across the same infinite screen that hosts the movies I make from memories. I just think the words and they appear, like mental dictation.

This often happens when I’m lying awake in bed, or during hypnogogia, that space between awake and asleep. I lie there as the words come, and all the ideas I’m trying to capture are expressed perfectly.

But I’m caught. I want to get up and write it down with pen and paper, or type on a screen, but that very act can stop the flow. I lie there, repeating everything to myself, trying to commit it to memory, hoping that when I rise in the morning it will still be there, etched clearly into my brain.

This can also happen when I’m running, or driving, or out on a walk—everywhere and every when it’s least possible to actually corral my thoughts onto paper. The moment I sit down to write, to dictate my thoughts to my hand, they often flee as if they’re afraid to be captured—like they can’t trust the paper to be an honest and loving custodian.

I guess that makes sense. Inside my head, they’re malleable, shapeable. They bend at my will. Once they’re written down, they become available for other eyes to draw them into other brains—brains that host entirely different constellations of experiences, which will inevitably color the meaning.

The only place those words can stay simple and true and fully understood is inside my own mind. Outside lies the chance of misinterpretation, misunderstanding, distrust.

This piece was drafted an hour or so ago, before I got out of bed. This is my attempt to reconstruct, and although I miss the loveliness of the original, I’m glad enough of it remained to escape through my fingers down to the keys of the keyboard, so I could push POST, despite knowing that that very act will change its meaning.

I’m curious. What is the inner writing experience like for you? I’d love to hear in the comments.