I think I have the vapors!

If thoughts are but a vapor, why do I put such stock in them? Though conceived without form or substance, thoughts take shape and mass when I apply words to them. But what use are those isolated, abstract products of my neural chemical reactions? Like the round stone, the spontaneous fire or the deep lake of ages past, I fail to recognize their potential at first. Perhaps my words serve as playthings, at once, serious and fun: parts of a construction kit, from which I might build useful or fanciful ideas. I gather my ideas, sort them out, and assemble them into concepts. And concepts are the versatile, sturdy stuff that form my body of opinions, beliefs, attitudes, and prejudices. Will they prove useful, or vain? Will they languish in a journal, on a weblog, or combine to form compelling, lifechanging stories? But take care of your words! Unspoken, they are a reservoir of potential power. Held in check and released as needed, they flow out to irrigate the fertile ground of uncounted souls downstream. If the dam breaks, however, they will gush forth, uncontrollable and irretrievable, to wash away the soil and destroy what was sown.