We don’t even scream. We don’t even cry. Tears aren’t even rolling down our cheeks.
We don’t mean what we say. I don’t mean what I say. I haven’t said a single sincere word. A single honest word. I haven’t said anything true.
It’s like I’m defiling language. Like I’m saying the wrong thing, and all the wrong things. Language itself … these words themselves … Everything I’ve ever said. And we’ve ever said.
These words. I hate words. I hate speaking. I hate all the things I say with my mouth. I hate my mouth. I hate the hole into my inside. And all the things that spew from my mouth.
Why should I deserve to speak? Shouldn’t I just keep quiet? Shouldn’t I keep quiet forever? Shouldn’t I just stop speaking and writing? And saying things, saying all these things? Saying all these words?
We have to be disgusted with … our ability to speak. We don’t deserve to speak – maybe it’s that. We don’t deserve words. To be able to use words. Saying things is wrong. We’re destroying language. Polluting language. We shouldn’t say another word. A vow of silence! Silence! And wouldn’t we spoil that, too?
Work in Progress 