Through the lack of attaching myself to words, my thoughts remain nebulous most of the time. They sketch vague, pleasant shapes and then are swallowed up; I forget them almost immediately.
My thought is me: that is why I cannot stop thinking. I exist because I think I cannot keep from thinking.
My thought is me: that's why I can't stop. I exist because I think… and I can't stop myself from thinking. At this very moment - it's frightful - if I exist, it is because I am horrified at existing. I am the one who pulls myself from the nothingness to which I aspire.
I've always expressed my thoughts in color but we remain blind.
For me, my thoughts are my prostitutes.
You set up your place in my thoughts, moved in and made my thinking crowded.
My thoughts on gay marriage are that everyone has the right to love and be loved, and that's the position I take.
I have no axe to grind; only my thoughts to burnish.
If my thought-dreams could be seen/ They'd probably put my head in a guillotine.
Perhaps I'm just too painstaking a type of person, but I can't grasp much of anything without putting down my thoughts in writing.