Imagine playing the piano, and it's sounding sweet, and then you hit a dead key - thud. Keep reading it out loud until it sings, and not just to yourself, mind you - let someone else taste your brew and help you with the seasoning. It always does. I don't think it exists in our consciousness or unconsciousness, only the concept exists. Our experiences are subjective interpretations of actuality.
Life is fluid beauty, even in tragedy.
Okay, I'll stop now. I compose mainly on the computer. I took my freshman year. I only use a journal or napkins for lil' bits and pieces, although I do find myself sending ideas via email to home from work. Don't tell anyone.