Speaking of speaking, I like to
maintain my words. As if I am a huge container rolled in plastic sheets to
prevent my paints from slipping away, I store words. This is rather comforting
to me. I can talk to myself, its self convincing- I have words. I often think
when had I first imagined something, when did I first conceive words, just to
myself, why do we speak?
The natural language isn’t
sufficient?
When I see people speaking
unnecessarily, there’s some rage which steams in me. It calls for because it
can’t see the gift being maltreated. I have a thing for gifts.
I can talk to you, you can talk to
me, this is all more than fascinating. Above just communication, there develops
a bond layer which reaches to each of our nerve and builds home, homes.
This is the reason that after
wasting away in every corner of the world, we long for our homes at the end of
day.
When we speak, I expect us to hold
hands and let every atom of our existence speak too. Everything speaks.
Everything has skin.
2 comments:
my skin speaks more dan my vocals!
words should not be wasted, on the other hand words should not be kept hidden as well...it is a delicate art...this playing with words
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