Whenever we wish to portray our inner world to Another, we use words, language, sentence, structure, syntax; An ever-flowing river of concepts and imagery that somehow stir the inner world of another and create a new one:
A merging
Through letters on a screen, utterances in the dark, voices in the rain, we listen and we merge, our ears and our hearts pick up the vibrancies of words and recreate them into concepts and symbols in our mind.
Where my words end, your world begins
I once read a book by Stephen King, where he tried to explain the meaning of language, of words. "Words are the closest thing we get to telepathy", he said (and I'm paraphrasing), and he is right. Words cross time, cross space. Five sentences on a page can transfer the image of a bookshelf in a kitchen, in a time in the past, tell of notes falling slow and a stuffed animal from Berlin - transfer the image from my memories to yours, and in doing so - I have given you a piece of myself.
Keep it well. Treasure the worlds of others.
The pieces that follow are some of my favorite writings, they are also the ones that are as close to the truth as I can remember them.
They do not fit into any category, they are simply
fragments
of reality, captured in me - a wobbly resonance of what has been, who I was, what I am. As with my poetry, they were all created within a context - a context that is as much a part of the story as the story itself.
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