Help?

Condemned mental hospital, New England, turn of the 20th c.

I have so many ideas... so many story threads, fact and fiction, in my head and wanting to get out, onto a page, phrased clearly and carefully, and to you - to everyone. I'm in fact, overwhelmed.

What do I do? There are so many things I want to teach people about, and equally as many questions I want to ask, and absorb the answers. Infinitely many trails I want to follow.

How do I simply put the small Quicktime audio controls directly on the page without using a link to open a new page or something written in JavaScript? How do I keep it as simple as possible? Does anyone know?

I've been looking and I've learned a lot, but for every answer I find I have five more questions. I want the best usability, the highest quality, the most pleasing aesthetics, the most potent impact.

Life-Savers are too small to save my life. Why do they call them that? People are too busy or in pain to pow-wow with me for a meaningful duration, and there is no physical presence - I'm alone.

I can sit as comfortably as I can and listen to the right thing, practice existing in the present, bringing myself back to sensory input without judgment over and over again until my knee screams out.

I can multitask on a hundred things in a frenzy like turtles rushing to the sea under a full moon and I can clear my mind of all thoughts, at least sometimes. But I still have so much to give, and

It feels like it's rotting inside me - blossoms of history and connections I've discovered but cannot find time nor will to convey, eat like cancer inside me. I don't know why I feel any needs at all.

We are evolved from nonliving chemicals whose physical shape makes them act in some minutely meaningful way and allows us to create the Hoover Dam and the Pyramid of Khufu. Why do we feel anything,

Besides hunger, thirst, the need for sleep? I do. I hesitate to write a single word, deliberating. But if I did make up my mind, I'd want to write the sequel to the Principia or GEB. And go beyond.

And I feel handcuffed. How do other people get through their days bombarded by a thousand rogue thoughts and to-dos and want-to-dos? Do you have these needs? How do you adhere to structure?

Are you passionate, and feel compelled to share the beauty and horror so profound it makes me cry like a child? I still feel Everything; I've tried all I can think of to kill it off, but it's stronger than ever.