Writing Shapes the World
When I become animated, I can’t talk. The words get sped up so fast my mouth has trouble keeping up. It’s a hyper speed flux of unparalleled stability- the words as they travel from cavity to cavity of brain, start out as ‘destruction’ but come out from the final pucker of lips and caresses of tongue as ‘noitcurtsed’. This is why I write, because making words and phrases flow from stem of brain to tips of fingers and onto a blank page is so much easier than making them come out of mouth.
There is so much creativity and prose that becomes locked away with speech, especially with speech. Through writing brains are transported into a different place, without pressures or programmed premonitions of faults that cause speech to vacillate. In this place brains are capable of catching words I barely remember thinking. There is a place where scenery takes form, mystery lands that build and diverge, put themselves on a map for the world to find (but only if it is wished).
What is to be said, about writing? Less than can be written, for aren’t words what bring together the world? Light tendrils of black upon white span the ages with inexplicable word to be deciphered endlessly. Always, there is something. Something to make history.
With script and all it’s variations the world becomes, remains, the world.
How many books have been written to tell about the world? Without them, how would we, the people, the human being, exist? Knowing ourselves would be an entirely different thing with out script to describe us, engrave us into the fine slate called society. Where would we go without the words to lead the way? The roads are long and endless but the words will always be there to comfort, and always right where they are least expected. A show of relief in the form of letters in an orderly fashion.
“Speak to me and I’ll speak to you”. Integrated are the ways of...
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