(no subject)
Sep. 24th, 2011 10:03 pmI love to write.
Sometimes I forget that. There is a certain peace that comes with sculpting a phrase, and a way of making words sing without a voice. Only, in writing, we do recognize voices--and that, dear children and former children, is how your English teacher knew when you'd copied your work or had someone else write for you. We are pattern making creatures, they seep into the way we speak, into our keystrokes and into the types of words we favor. Haven't you ever heard someone say he wouldn't say that or I can't imagine her saying... There is a certain kind of sense, or nonsense, that people make. We measure so much by the things that seem out of place. But, that's another line of thought and I'm branching off now. I'm just in absurdly good mood and I wanted to write...anything....
Sometimes I forget that. There is a certain peace that comes with sculpting a phrase, and a way of making words sing without a voice. Only, in writing, we do recognize voices--and that, dear children and former children, is how your English teacher knew when you'd copied your work or had someone else write for you. We are pattern making creatures, they seep into the way we speak, into our keystrokes and into the types of words we favor. Haven't you ever heard someone say he wouldn't say that or I can't imagine her saying... There is a certain kind of sense, or nonsense, that people make. We measure so much by the things that seem out of place. But, that's another line of thought and I'm branching off now. I'm just in absurdly good mood and I wanted to write...anything....