Shhhh....

"My ear over your heart, deciphering a beat; there are no words, I am not there. Security is everywhere; there are no backstage passes. A careful watch is kept over the expressions that navigate the cords of voice. I fear your flinch, and talk to you when you are sleeping. Last night you smiled. I don’t know why."

I found this on a piece of napkin. I don't recall when it was that I wrote it...but it was obviously at a time when I used to write more than I have been lately. I am not sure when it was that I bartered my Expressivity for a newfound Silence...but I am missing writing the way that I used to. Maybe it's because I'm happy right now, and as in the words of a Brazilian poet; happiness is the only indescribable emotion.

Strangely enough, there are still quite a few things that I could say - if I didn't feel that I was struggling within the confines of our language to articulate them in a way that would make sense. Many of the words that I used to use with facile ease, have been diachronized into expressions of violence, or are percieved as superficial and trite. There simply are no words presently capapble of the gigantic feat that I am wishing could be performed...expressivity that contains the ideally synchronic concurrence of both significant depth, and mutable play.

"language as a stable system of normatively identical forms has effects that can never be avoided, since language is treated as such not only by linguists but average people." (Gramsci's Politics of Language)

Last summer I had a conversation where I was told that silence was preferrable to articulation, as the utterance of words is a mechanism akin to a trap; the ritualization of an event into a revolting structure. "What is said can't be unsaid." And I wonder sometimes, if we have progressed into an epoch of history where we have lost the ability to have experiences that are as meaningful as they could be, in this the age of a vaccumed loss of signifiers, and with a loss of imagination and the ability to play.