"...and you can always tell what kind of person someone is by how they mask their words..."Words are alive like wriggling worms in the sun after a good rain, all wet and restless and desirous of something more. Words, like worms and their DNA, are so close to humans on the inside we can feel them breathing in our ears, leaving a warm, moist clamminess at the napes of our necks where our hairs stand on end when we think about it for too long.
-Ali
Words are powerful in their subtlety. In their indiscretion. They ebb and flow from our brains and our hearts and our souls toward our mouths or our fingers and they pour out, sometimes in a trickle, sometimes in a flood. And when there's a steady rush of words by your ears and eyes and nose and you can taste the cameraderie in the air, the connection in words, that's when you know.
When your throat hurts and your eyes blur and your inner clock is tap tap tapping at your brain telling you you have to be awake in an hour and a half but you keep talking because you can feel the electricity of the conversation and the kindred soul in the chair across the room or kneeled against the bookcase in the store or across the table at dinner or whispering over the staticy phone line from work and you don't want to leave.
You want to live in this moment forever and ever amen because it is when you don't feel alone. You crave that feeling of togetherness, that happy delusion of knowing and being known, of bonding. It's a good feeling, an amazing feeling, to be included. To be an equal. To be on the same page.
There is nothing happier than words shared.
So why is it so hard to share them in the first place?
FIN. 3:09 p.m., Wednesday, Dec. 28, 2005
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