This started out as one thing and as is the case so often, just turned into a free writing exercise.
I'm surrounded by the sounds of people so desperate to be published, yet we live in a world where every bad writer is given a degree, a grant and an internship or whatever they call it. Young men and women, dreaming of stardom and writing about everyday topics with such fabricated depth, it makes an old curmudgeon like me smile. I feel badly for people who are so transparent, yet feel their use of language gives them mystique. Professors and publishers eat this up, the public, confused by their use of multi syllabic words. But does it sell? No, idiocy sells. Straightforward, no metaphors, simplistic symbolism is what they want. Inner goddesses and dragon spells is where we have arrived.
I think my current situation has made me so much more aware of how people use words in print. They don't have smiles or hair tosses to camouflage their souls. No laughter or hand movements to distract us from the real message. When you read something by someone you know and those generalizations you made about them ring so true. I've a keen eye for human behavior and it's always been picking up the eating disorder or the victimization, but that can't be seen by staring. Reading others words tells a story. The married man who feels the need to comment on the new divorcees status update, commenting how he was the first to post. The innuendo laughed off by both, but sometimes you wonder. I play the game myself at times, just to gauge others perception and yet, when I'm blatant, it falls on deaf ears, or in this case, blind eyes.
I like to write at times just to write. Just to let me mind run free, because my body can't. I don't have delusions as to my ability. I can convey thoughts, that is all. I don't have poetic tone and I tend to use the same phrases as when I speak and they become monotonous, even to my own eyes and ears. One of the things that astounds me though is just how poorly people write when they haven't experienced anything. I don't mean they haven't done anything, I mean experienced it. I've gone to many baseball games, but I've experienced few. I've had many relationships and felt love and loss, but sometimes it was simply a product of feeling the way you're supposed to feel. No regrets now, so why did I then? I also make no bones about who I am and who created this person and there was never an oedipal complex as I see in so many writer's work. What makes it glare is how it is hidden and this, makes me question it more. I find the words people write between each other to be fascinating, both as education into their minds, but more so into their desires. It's funny when you read the written word and it says so much more than simply commenting on the day.
I appreciate those who take the time to read what I have to say and even more so those who comment privately. Whether it be a "nice" or an interest into my well being. I can assure you all, my mind is clear, possibly more than ever, but the laughter has left my life and that I need to regain. I thank three people for bringing it to me with their words, but I need to see them laugh. One thing I miss about one friend in particular was her laugh and the tears we cried in utter joy together. I miss that, because all I've seen is laughter that comes nervously after something told that is neither funny or awkward enough to need a buffer. I know this sounds weird, but two people, laughing at someone's shirt or hat. This is what I miss. Memories being made. I have none for so long now. Reminds me of another time in my life, but that was followed by some of my fondest thoughts. So I am content and I wait, but would love to see that smile and that laugh and know that the lull in communication means nothing, because it's just hibernating.
I'm surrounded by the sounds of people so desperate to be published, yet we live in a world where every bad writer is given a degree, a grant and an internship or whatever they call it. Young men and women, dreaming of stardom and writing about everyday topics with such fabricated depth, it makes an old curmudgeon like me smile. I feel badly for people who are so transparent, yet feel their use of language gives them mystique. Professors and publishers eat this up, the public, confused by their use of multi syllabic words. But does it sell? No, idiocy sells. Straightforward, no metaphors, simplistic symbolism is what they want. Inner goddesses and dragon spells is where we have arrived.
I think my current situation has made me so much more aware of how people use words in print. They don't have smiles or hair tosses to camouflage their souls. No laughter or hand movements to distract us from the real message. When you read something by someone you know and those generalizations you made about them ring so true. I've a keen eye for human behavior and it's always been picking up the eating disorder or the victimization, but that can't be seen by staring. Reading others words tells a story. The married man who feels the need to comment on the new divorcees status update, commenting how he was the first to post. The innuendo laughed off by both, but sometimes you wonder. I play the game myself at times, just to gauge others perception and yet, when I'm blatant, it falls on deaf ears, or in this case, blind eyes.
I like to write at times just to write. Just to let me mind run free, because my body can't. I don't have delusions as to my ability. I can convey thoughts, that is all. I don't have poetic tone and I tend to use the same phrases as when I speak and they become monotonous, even to my own eyes and ears. One of the things that astounds me though is just how poorly people write when they haven't experienced anything. I don't mean they haven't done anything, I mean experienced it. I've gone to many baseball games, but I've experienced few. I've had many relationships and felt love and loss, but sometimes it was simply a product of feeling the way you're supposed to feel. No regrets now, so why did I then? I also make no bones about who I am and who created this person and there was never an oedipal complex as I see in so many writer's work. What makes it glare is how it is hidden and this, makes me question it more. I find the words people write between each other to be fascinating, both as education into their minds, but more so into their desires. It's funny when you read the written word and it says so much more than simply commenting on the day.
I appreciate those who take the time to read what I have to say and even more so those who comment privately. Whether it be a "nice" or an interest into my well being. I can assure you all, my mind is clear, possibly more than ever, but the laughter has left my life and that I need to regain. I thank three people for bringing it to me with their words, but I need to see them laugh. One thing I miss about one friend in particular was her laugh and the tears we cried in utter joy together. I miss that, because all I've seen is laughter that comes nervously after something told that is neither funny or awkward enough to need a buffer. I know this sounds weird, but two people, laughing at someone's shirt or hat. This is what I miss. Memories being made. I have none for so long now. Reminds me of another time in my life, but that was followed by some of my fondest thoughts. So I am content and I wait, but would love to see that smile and that laugh and know that the lull in communication means nothing, because it's just hibernating.
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