What is a word?
A word rolls off ones tongue in one swift movement one after
another, sometimes it has left ones mouth before we have a chance to stop it.
Once it is in motion its course cannot be altered. It has spoken and rests in
the air, the aftershock stays in ones mouth for just a brief second until the
room stops ringing and the words are no longer present.
It is like a kite captured by the powerful winds taken far
away. Once it is gone it cannot be returned. She echoes in the hills and rebounds
back to whence it derived filling the guilty man.
It cannot be described, for it speaks for itself. It is not
caught in one glass jar but can be painted in the winds. Each word adds on more
and more layers whether in small or large strokes creating chaos.
Without it, we feel trapped, powerless, sans emotion. With
it we don’t appreciate what it means.
(“It seems to me, that if there is a bad taste in your
mouth, you spit it out. You don't constantly swallow it back.” )