Words are funny.
I don’t really understand them outside of the fact that they are neccessary for communication. I mean, I understand words…. so long as they are spoken in English….what I mean is that words are super complex.
Words can come in an auditory format, written word and can even be conveyed through gestures of the body.
They make up the narrative of the books we read and drive the story of the films we watch and they give meaning to the melodies of the music we listen to.
But books, movies and songs are subject to sucking if the words are not organized in the correct way that pleases the intended audience.
You can write a story with one set of words and it be terrible and then rearrange, alter, add, or remove words to create the same narrative and it be much better than the first.
The beginning of Tokien’s first draft of The Fellowship of the Ring had a hobbit named Bingo about to venture on a quest with his two pals Frodo and Odo Took and contained vasts amount of unnecessary dialogue. Tolkien’s buddy Clive suggested less “hobbit talk” that was distracting from the story and to simplify the writing. Tolkien would cut a lot of dialogue, drop Bingo and Odo and trade them in for Samwise Gamgee and move Frodo to the spotlight. Much better.
I’m not saying The Lord of the Rings would have failed with Bingo bearing the One Ring but I gotta say I am glad Samwise Gamgee happened. No offense to Odo Took but Peregrin rocks that last name better.
We all appreciate words in different ways. It is what makes books, movies and music subjective. “Red Solo Cup” by Toby Keith may really speak to your heart in a way that it just plain fails to speak to mine. And that’s ok. Kinda. But maybe listen to something else. Another example would be that the movie Con Air is just a 90’s, run of the mill, Nicolas Cage led action movie to most people. But I have never watched it and not cried. There is something about a man killing a bunch of criminals on an airplane while on his way to meet his daughter for the first time that hits me right in the feels.
The line, “I meant to get a haircut.” And boom….I’m in tears.
Words cut us in different ways but the human condition seems leave us more vulnerable to words born of sorrow.
Shakespeare wrote more comedies than tragedies but the tragedies top his greatest hits.
I am not about to try to explain or even attempt to understand why we are suckers for sad songs and heartbreaking endings other than the most simple answer is that sadness is more rare than we think making it a more raw emotion.
Just a theory.
End of introduction that only slightly has anything to do with the point of this post.
Smooth segue into actual point in hopes no one notices your bad habit of unnessecary, poor attempt at humor style intros.
I apologize for my lack of posts lately. It is due to a lack of words in my brain.
December 2016 was one of the crazier months of my life and yet every attempt to sit and write of the events left me feeling unsatisfied with the words written.
To be honest I think the fracturing of my mind has begun to slow and my heart seems to have less holes these days.
Which is good….I think. Yeah. Totally. It’s a good thing. But my drive to write has suffered. I feel I haven’t had much to say or at least a lack of raw emotion has left words buried deep down.
I don’t know why words pour more freely and creatively from the breached hull of a sinking ship but they do and drowning doesn’t intrigue me like it did before.
Gasping for air can fuel the panic that propagates pretty words but treading those emotions becomes to taxing.
No offense to Jack and Rose and that narrative of the lost love of letting go but I found a floating door that is big enough for two and I am enjoying the rest from the struggle.
I am not famous for my smile but people say that I have been smiling a lot lately. For the first time since I was 10 years old there is photographic evidence that I am capable of more than just a crooked grin. And if a picture is worth a thousand words then I am willing to learn a whole language worth of new ones just to keep this.
I no longer buy into the existence of language barriers anyway.
I am not quitting this blog. This lackluster post sounds like a final bow but it is not. I desire to continue writing and still have a deep love of words that I think will continue to be a mental medicine in my life.
Patching holes doesn’t mean that storms won’t come and that this place won’t still serve as a therapeutic outlet for me.
I think my mental decline has merely slowed for the time being.
And perhaps this writers block will only improve my writing.
I mean it can’t really get any worse.