My obsession with words started a long time ago when I was still a toddler listening to strange sounds and trying to learn meanings attached to them. Some of the grownups talked in funny voices confusing my wondering, receptive mind and others used words I could not decipher.
As time went by, new words came to my knowledge, more accents were heard and distinguished and I, myself, started shaping my own sentences, speaking my mind, expressing my feelings.
The love went on for many years; words were changing, making room for new words in new languages.
Feeling the power, the importance of words, and the effect they have, made everything worthwhile.
There was a phase of learning how to correctly use them, how to take advantage of them to impress people, how to express the deepest feelings, or cry out for help.
The relationship went on for many years; at times however they were spoken in internal voices, without reaching for others’ ears, but they were always here, to make me company, to make me think, to help me think.
There happened at times that words would get too crowded, fighting for precedence in my head, leaving me anxious and inquisitive. There were also times when they would come out too strong hurting others, crying, screaming, imposing myself upon the world. Sometimes they just got lost in translation, or got stuck or choked in my throat and at other times still they were making such a mess that I wished I could have erased them and started with a clean slate. ….
… Words that need to be chased out of my head; punished for their intrusion, to make it quiet again and open to new meanings, new contents.
Here is to the quiet, silence and new meanings; here is to welcoming new words into my world.