Sometimes there is a mental knot in a phrase, and you want to dissect it into words, but can't because there is always that inexplicable bit that confuses you to the extent that you're convinced that you don't understand anything at all.
The earth's axis is wobbling and it's going to take a little less than 26,000 years before it's reset and back to normal. Sometimes I forget what words really are. So I have to eat or sleep or splurge on things that I might not use in the hope that later, I can maybe remember. But then I can't remember why I'm here, and what I'm going to do as I go on. Things shatter sometimes. They really do.
There is nothing worse than a perfect score on a test that was supposed to tell you what was wrong. Something is wrong. Sometimes you're the only one who can know.
(you find then, that your friend sold her thirteenth book, and because you've always believed that the number thirteen is lucky, you cheer for her. congrats, beth. :) )