While reading my notes to myself for the first time, I realize all my sentences are broken fragments...In a sense it resembles my life. I have identified the problem. My thoughts are moving at a faster speed than my pen. So I often loose myself, all boundaries, and all time to my thoughts. I can become so mixed up that I do not know what is real from fiction.... No doubt fiction makes a better job of the truth. I have been living in my own head all this time, passing my days in memories and dreams to the point where I had mixed them with fact. When I write, it may be a combination of this life, and my past life... I never once found it strange that I could transform facts to memories than to produce dreams. as a result memory, fact, and dream have been stirred together until they were indistinguishable....
the solution would be best to organize my thoughts before i write.
