A blank page...

My brain sometimes feels like there's too much information in it. Everything I read, anything I see, any tv, radio, song, all of it crammed in there, trying to process it, make sense of it all. It pushes out anything I need to remember, like where the scissors are, or when I need to empty the washing machine, or who called and left a message (and what the message was). It makes me tired, and grumpy and yet, I never stop doing this. Taking it all in. I don't know how to not read, or listen or see. I want to know things, I know that I'll never know everything, but I still want to make an attempt to know more, to see more, to be more. I make lists, of books to read, music to hear, films to see, places to visit, words to use. The list of lists goes on and so do the lists themselves. I need more time. Time to do all these things. And also time to do nothing. I should learn how to be still. And quiet. At peace. Calm. Something I'm not. Perhaps then I'd be able to let go of this crazy rush to do everything on those lists. Maybe I'd even stop with the list making. But for now, that'll have to wait. At least here I can write my lists and my random wisps of thought and ideas down and free up a little space in my mind.