INCOMPLete thoughts

In this life of travel I have only one fear: incomplete thoughts. My mind feels like an ant farm...little creatures crawling up, around and over the gyri in my brain: scooping, shoveling, burying, transfering, squeezing, and molding the thoughts that race in and out. The trouble is there´s often too much external stimuli for the brain-ants to follow through with each thought to its completion...and then what? Where does that intricate detail of my experience in this world disappear too? Will it ever be retrieved? Ideally once a thought is complete I can journal about it, form an opinion about it, talk to others about their opinion about it, etc. Travelling on my own has given me the luxury to ponder the smallest nitions on my mind before they surface into reality. What I´m finding is this so called luxury is inhibiting my social life.

Sarah and I were walking through Boquete (more on this lovely town to come) and I found myself saying to her, midsentence, "sorry, that thought´s incomplete." Before my trip I could ramble on and one until the thought finished, but now my thoughts are like small boats navigating through a choppy sea. (Fortunately, Sarah has patience and we share past experiences so communicating is possible despite my social hiccups).