Just when you think you’ve got it all figured out, life squeezes lemon juice in your eye. Blind to what’s ahead, you stumble and fall, hit your knee on the edge of a coffee table, and bump right into life’s next challenge. What the heck just happened? It’s an instant reminder that you maybe didn’t have your suitcase packed and you probably weren’t ready for the trip after all. Don’t worry about it, though. You’re better off walking blindly, stumbling, bumping, and falling. Perfection is for phonies.

Sometimes, people suggest I’m too cryptic. I tell them there’s an easy solution for that. Read more of my stuff. The more you read someone, the more you can pick up what they're putting down. A writer's style is part of the reader filtration process. Their sentence construction. How they phrase things. You can hear them speaking to you. I recently told my brother, “Believe it or not, I prefer sound over clarity.” He said, “I believe it!”

Ideally, you want both, but I’m too inspired by musicians. Just think about music—how often do you bob your head, hum along, and turn the volume up when you have no idea what the hell they're saying? I do it quite often, actually. Words on a page have a sound to them. They dance along like a melody in your ear. There’s a rhythm, tempo, and cadence to each syllable, word, or sentence. Ask any poet, they’ll tell you. And pacing? Don’t get me started. Does it feel like a root canal? That’s the test. If the answer is yes, erase it and start again.

This idea of sound over clarity would drive an English professor absolutely nuts. (So would that adverb.) I’m talking, nuts, nuts. You know the guy with the pipe in his mouth, he would laugh at me as he blows a puff of smoke, “Sound over clarity!? Ho, ho, ho.” I’d love to grab that damn pipe and stick it up him pipe side first, but I’m a better person than that. I think. I mean, if given the opportunity...ah, never mind.

Here’s the best part about life. I get to laugh at him, too. Silly pipe and dumb rules. With a half-smirk on my face, I can imagine this guy's lemon juice is coming any day now.

Or maybe there’s just a little more coming my way.

*This article is part of the ongoing Morning After series: short, reflective pieces on thoughts, feelings, and ideas about life. They’re kind of like well-manicured journal entries, written the morning after a night out.