For starters I want to quickly plug my new blog:
L S Bland - fiction
It's basically the start of a story blog. There may end up being several stories being posted in almost chapter form up there, but for now there's one piece of prose up for y'all to read if you want.
The story blog started because I found a piece of writing today while attempting to write a disclaimer with my friend - and, as always, I ended up reading it back. Not just to myself, but aloud. From there I started thinking about the first chapter to the story line that I'd written, and how it would be fun to post it up on here. But then my friend (as usual) complained that he wanted to hear more of the story... so I figured it would be a creative outlet to start a new blog where I could post up my creative writing.
Yes, if you hadn't guessed already, I like writing. I'm not good at it mind, but it's fun none the less.
I struck gold when I got home and found that the chapter I had been looking for months ago in my note books was already typed up on my external hard drive... hence being able to post it at 2am as soon as I got in.
Now, if you've read my blog before you're probably thinking that I've been hijacked and someone else is just using this to promote their own blog... but that is not the case!
Shocking, I know!
The thing is, my blog has been getting extremely emotionally abused lately. This is, in large part, due to the fact I've stopped writing my diary... so it all kinda ends up on here instead. HOWEVER it suddenly struck me today (after I found out that someone I vaguely know had read my blog) that ... get this... people read blogs!
Oh yeah, and... guess what!! They can tell when you're being a tad too honest...
There's this temptation to do what my bff does - which is delete the revealing posts... but then I'd have a blank blog, so there's really no point. Plus, I'm not ashamed of anything I do or say or think or feel... so if anyone doesn't like it, they can pretty much go hump themselves like a camel...
.... did.. did I just say...? Oh screw it! I don't care. I'm asleep already anyway!...
So now that that's over and done with, I suppose I should enlighten you to the interesting goings on of late...
But then again, that would be telling... and a majority of it isn't to do with me (or at least not just me)... and I'd feel like I was infringing on other peoples privacy to divulge the mildly drunken antics of my closest friends...
Check me out, being grown up for once!
I'm such a kid lately!
I've started being all happy and bubbly for no apparent reason. It's kinda cool, though now I'm kinda scared that I'm bi-polar... oh well - as they say "She's schizophrenic, but she's good people"
I mean, I know that in a few days the lows are gonna kick in again. But I'm enjoying the ride for now.
The only things that could make life better at the minute would be having a boyfriend to hold hands with and kiss goodnight, a decidedly lesser attraction to one of my female friends, and a little less attention from someone (who probably reads this and will probably throw a strop later).
Okay, a little more focus for my work would be handy too. But I don't seem to be doing too badly. The motivation is getting there, so I'm sure the focus will follow.
And even though I'm totally paranoid atm, and feel like there's something big and bad following me around (in a metaphorical sense that is, I don't think I have some big scary stalker or anything... though now I've thought about it I'm so gonna have nightmares) so it always feels a bit like I'm looking over my shoulder or being chased. Like I say - Paranoia.
Hence I shall leave this rather unimpressive, impersonal post with my teddy bear in hand!
May you be forever blessed with hope, love and eternal happiness
Blessed Be xx
Friday 19 November 2010
Wednesday 17 November 2010
"It's all fun and games till someone lops an ear off!"
The tears are blurring my vision, and I look down at the letter I'd been writing. It seems pathetic now. There's so much raw emotion in what he's saying that I can't stop the sobs from coming now.
Phrases stick out at me. "Someone you always looked up to", "hurt you so much", "so blind", "sees through every barrier you have", "stranger"....
I choke back my own confused responses. I never knew... "Time for a walk"
The laptop is discarded, and I'm already on my feet, shaking.
"If you're willing to meet up..." I'm changed in a flash, still swiping at stray tears as the reply comes through "I'm under the bridge x"
My fingers fumble to type a coherent message back as I trip downstairs. The tremors are becoming finer, but not fine enough. I have to see him. That's the only thing I can think. The replies are flying round my head but I can't think straight enough to hear any of them, my heart's hammering too loud to hear anything.
Somehow I manage to fit the key in the door, lock it, then I'm running.
The shock of running isn't as bad as the shock that I can't seem to stop.
Let me just clarify something here. I can't run. Not for more than 5 seconds.
More than that, I don't run. Especially not on frost. Especially not at 2am.
Yet here I am, running towards Upperton Road, unable to stop. All I can think is "slow down! Slow down!" I need time to think. What am I going to say? What am I going to do?
I turn the corner onto Upperton and manage to slow down. Now it's a quick walk. Slow down. And the thoughts are coming faster and faster - but none of them stay long enough for me to nail them down. It's like rain... a torrent of questions, of arguments, or statements, and answers all tumbling through my mind as I try to keep calm and just walk.
Maybe he's not even there. Maybe he's moved. Maybe he doesn't want to be disturbed. Maybe he's with someone else. Maybe... the thoughts move past what he's doing now onto what the hell I'm doing.
I should have stayed in bed. Should have written a reply. Should have called him. Should have done things differently. Should have picked up the stupid letter... The list goes on.
Retorts start to form. "I ran here..", "I had to walk to try and think of something to say, and I still have nothing...", "There's so much I want to say..", "Do you know how many bridges are in Leicester? And do you know how far they all are from mine?"... "So, I read your blog..."
None of them are appropriate. What the hell am I going to say when I get there?
The bridge starts to loom in sight and the butterflies start trying to escape. I'm gonna be sick.... but my feet still wont slow down; and I still can't think of anything to say.
I try to picture how I'll find him. Will he be sat? Stood? Laid down? Upset? Angry? Frustrated? Tired? Happy...? okay that one seems unlikely...
I find myself scrubbing at my face and trying to stop the sniffing so he doesn't know I've cried all the way here. I want to pause at the top of the steps that lead down to the bridge he always refers to as mine, pause to compose myself... but my feet are already thundering down them.
There he is. Laid on his back where we always lie; illuminated by the glow of his phone. I climb up next to him, still searching for something... anything... to say.
"hi..." it comes out as a whisper, almost a whimper. I'm frozen by the lack of words in my head. The shaking has just about stopped though, so I do the only thing I can now (since my mouth is on strike), I lie on top of him in an apologetic embrace...
"I'm sorry..."
"S'ok."
"No... it's not..."
The strange thing is, I wanted to tell him all these things. I wanted to say that he hasn't been open and honest with me. I wanted to have it out with him and actually get everything off my chest. I wanted to tell him he's been hurting me too, constantly... but none of it comes out.
I want to say that the reason I've been shouting at him in public is because he's been pissing me off in public. I want to say that the reason I've been acting like his mum is because he's been acting like a naughty child... but all the harsh words have shriveled up and I can't say anything.
His text goes off again and I leave him to his friend. I don't have to look to know who it is.
Is this how Lisa felt?...
The silence keeps filling up, and I don't know how to break it. Words come to my lips and die there. "How silly are we? Sat here in silence under a bridge?" it wont come out. "This is just like our friendship lately..." it wont come out.
Finally he taps my leg and gets up.
"Come on."
We're walking now and he looks at me.
"Can we be friends again now?" he asks. His voice is almost childlike. So innocent and full of painful hope. I can't even reply. I just hug him - tight.
Things are still whirring round my head, but they're settling down now.
You've heard the saying "cut off your nose to spite your face" ? Well, that's what falling out with him is like for me. It's like cutting away a part of myself in order to sulkily say "there - that'll teach you..."
And that's what makes me swallow all my hurts, and all the angry words; all the stupid comments that I want to yell and cry. Not because I'm in love with him or some soppy crap like that. It's because I value him beyond anything I can explain. I'd take every ounce of pain this world could offer if it took even a drop away from him. It's because I respect him in ways I never expected; as a friend, as a twin soul, as someone I've always looked up to, idolised even. Someone I've finally come to see as real, with faults that make him even more amazing than if he was perfect, someone human...
And what's more, I hold it all back because I'm only just realising that I mean something to him. I always knew in some way... always knew he cared... but I never dreamed he would feel more than a brotherly, patronising warmth towards me. It's like I truly have been blind, to never see past that. To never realise someone who isn't related to me, and under the age of 8, was able to look up to me in any way.
It should be an ego boost, but instead it's humbling.
I want to run away, run home, or further; the need to escape is reaching critical mass. I'm going to explode if I don't get away now. I try to walk away... but he looks at me and there's an expectation there. I can't read that look, but I can't leave him either. Damn.
Friendships are far too hard.
Why can they not be as simple as they used to be?
See, friendships start off simple, and fun, and easy... then they get complicated and hard...
I wish it were all still fun and games.
Oh well, lets face it - the juice is worth the squeeze
Blessed Be xx
Phrases stick out at me. "Someone you always looked up to", "hurt you so much", "so blind", "sees through every barrier you have", "stranger"....
I choke back my own confused responses. I never knew... "Time for a walk"
The laptop is discarded, and I'm already on my feet, shaking.
"If you're willing to meet up..." I'm changed in a flash, still swiping at stray tears as the reply comes through "I'm under the bridge x"
My fingers fumble to type a coherent message back as I trip downstairs. The tremors are becoming finer, but not fine enough. I have to see him. That's the only thing I can think. The replies are flying round my head but I can't think straight enough to hear any of them, my heart's hammering too loud to hear anything.
Somehow I manage to fit the key in the door, lock it, then I'm running.
The shock of running isn't as bad as the shock that I can't seem to stop.
Let me just clarify something here. I can't run. Not for more than 5 seconds.
More than that, I don't run. Especially not on frost. Especially not at 2am.
Yet here I am, running towards Upperton Road, unable to stop. All I can think is "slow down! Slow down!" I need time to think. What am I going to say? What am I going to do?
I turn the corner onto Upperton and manage to slow down. Now it's a quick walk. Slow down. And the thoughts are coming faster and faster - but none of them stay long enough for me to nail them down. It's like rain... a torrent of questions, of arguments, or statements, and answers all tumbling through my mind as I try to keep calm and just walk.
Maybe he's not even there. Maybe he's moved. Maybe he doesn't want to be disturbed. Maybe he's with someone else. Maybe... the thoughts move past what he's doing now onto what the hell I'm doing.
I should have stayed in bed. Should have written a reply. Should have called him. Should have done things differently. Should have picked up the stupid letter... The list goes on.
Retorts start to form. "I ran here..", "I had to walk to try and think of something to say, and I still have nothing...", "There's so much I want to say..", "Do you know how many bridges are in Leicester? And do you know how far they all are from mine?"... "So, I read your blog..."
None of them are appropriate. What the hell am I going to say when I get there?
The bridge starts to loom in sight and the butterflies start trying to escape. I'm gonna be sick.... but my feet still wont slow down; and I still can't think of anything to say.
I try to picture how I'll find him. Will he be sat? Stood? Laid down? Upset? Angry? Frustrated? Tired? Happy...? okay that one seems unlikely...
I find myself scrubbing at my face and trying to stop the sniffing so he doesn't know I've cried all the way here. I want to pause at the top of the steps that lead down to the bridge he always refers to as mine, pause to compose myself... but my feet are already thundering down them.
There he is. Laid on his back where we always lie; illuminated by the glow of his phone. I climb up next to him, still searching for something... anything... to say.
"hi..." it comes out as a whisper, almost a whimper. I'm frozen by the lack of words in my head. The shaking has just about stopped though, so I do the only thing I can now (since my mouth is on strike), I lie on top of him in an apologetic embrace...
"I'm sorry..."
"S'ok."
"No... it's not..."
The strange thing is, I wanted to tell him all these things. I wanted to say that he hasn't been open and honest with me. I wanted to have it out with him and actually get everything off my chest. I wanted to tell him he's been hurting me too, constantly... but none of it comes out.
I want to say that the reason I've been shouting at him in public is because he's been pissing me off in public. I want to say that the reason I've been acting like his mum is because he's been acting like a naughty child... but all the harsh words have shriveled up and I can't say anything.
His text goes off again and I leave him to his friend. I don't have to look to know who it is.
Is this how Lisa felt?...
The silence keeps filling up, and I don't know how to break it. Words come to my lips and die there. "How silly are we? Sat here in silence under a bridge?" it wont come out. "This is just like our friendship lately..." it wont come out.
Finally he taps my leg and gets up.
"Come on."
We're walking now and he looks at me.
"Can we be friends again now?" he asks. His voice is almost childlike. So innocent and full of painful hope. I can't even reply. I just hug him - tight.
Things are still whirring round my head, but they're settling down now.
You've heard the saying "cut off your nose to spite your face" ? Well, that's what falling out with him is like for me. It's like cutting away a part of myself in order to sulkily say "there - that'll teach you..."
And that's what makes me swallow all my hurts, and all the angry words; all the stupid comments that I want to yell and cry. Not because I'm in love with him or some soppy crap like that. It's because I value him beyond anything I can explain. I'd take every ounce of pain this world could offer if it took even a drop away from him. It's because I respect him in ways I never expected; as a friend, as a twin soul, as someone I've always looked up to, idolised even. Someone I've finally come to see as real, with faults that make him even more amazing than if he was perfect, someone human...
And what's more, I hold it all back because I'm only just realising that I mean something to him. I always knew in some way... always knew he cared... but I never dreamed he would feel more than a brotherly, patronising warmth towards me. It's like I truly have been blind, to never see past that. To never realise someone who isn't related to me, and under the age of 8, was able to look up to me in any way.
It should be an ego boost, but instead it's humbling.
I want to run away, run home, or further; the need to escape is reaching critical mass. I'm going to explode if I don't get away now. I try to walk away... but he looks at me and there's an expectation there. I can't read that look, but I can't leave him either. Damn.
Friendships are far too hard.
Why can they not be as simple as they used to be?
See, friendships start off simple, and fun, and easy... then they get complicated and hard...
I wish it were all still fun and games.
Oh well, lets face it - the juice is worth the squeeze
Blessed Be xx
Tuesday 16 November 2010
To sleep, perchance to dream
How is it, just as I find myself I have to loose my friends??
There must be some kind of logic to this. Maybe being lost served a purpose of some kind, and finding myself again requires a punishment of some kind. That's what this is about.
Or maybe it's just that I've woken up enough to realise that my friends aren't who or what I thought they were anymore. Things have changed too much.
That's what happens when you sleep through two whole years of your life. You wake up and look around going... wait - what happened??
I mean, it's not like I can't remember what happened... just that it doesn't seem real, and I can barely believe any of it. I keep expecting things... and they just aren't there or like that.
I think I put myself to sleep around November 2008, when my brother in-law died. Since then I've:
I've been pretty darn messed up for the past couple years. Not that I was amazingly stable before that or anything, but I swear there's been far too much wrong with me the past couple years for me to even see beyone my own hands. It's like there was a pair of glasses on my face that got so fogged up I couldn't see through them. I could just about make out what was going on, but I didn't even care.
My neices and nephews are growing up... without me... and that's kinda sad.
My parents are turning my room into a spare room...
My brother and sister probably don't know me anymore...
My sister is re-married now...
My friends... how the hell they've managed to put up with me over this period of time I'll never know. But I have to say thank you to them.
Thank you Kaydie, for always being there even when we're biting each others head off, or trying to stop the other from killing themselves - you're still always there for me, and I'm so gratefull for that.
Thank you Libor, for being my rock. For being the person who picked up the peices and held me together while I tried to remember how to do it myself. For kicking me up the ass and making me stand on my own two feet when I was being too stuborn to try. For never being too busy for me when I really needed you. For putting up with all my crap and just generally being the best friend a girl could ever ask for.
See, the thing is, I've come back now... and my closest friends have never really known me like this. They've only known me since I've been asleep... and it's hard to be me and who they expect me to be at the same time.
I suppose it's the choice that comes now, do I try to be who they want me to be, or do I be who I used to be? I don't even know if I can be who I was, maybe too much has changed... but it's worth the try. I've been someone else too long, just sleepwalking through life - dreaming my life away. No more. Time to take stock of what I've left myself with and build a life again.
Wish me luck! ^_^
Blessed Be xx
There must be some kind of logic to this. Maybe being lost served a purpose of some kind, and finding myself again requires a punishment of some kind. That's what this is about.
Or maybe it's just that I've woken up enough to realise that my friends aren't who or what I thought they were anymore. Things have changed too much.
That's what happens when you sleep through two whole years of your life. You wake up and look around going... wait - what happened??
I mean, it's not like I can't remember what happened... just that it doesn't seem real, and I can barely believe any of it. I keep expecting things... and they just aren't there or like that.
I think I put myself to sleep around November 2008, when my brother in-law died. Since then I've:
- been engaged
- cheated on my fiance
- barely passed my first year
- broken up
- fallen for my best friend
- had a mental break down
- been dragged out of a shower
- broken up again
- stopped attending lectures
- had another mental break down
- started using my laptop again
- stopped being able to use my laptop again
- forgot to eat
- forgot to sleep
- somehow managed to pass second year
- slept with my bestfriends ex's
- had another mental break down
- joined the gym
- written songs that all sound the same
- moved in with my best friend
- wanted to kill my best friend
- joined DemonTV
- stopped going to lectures again
I've been pretty darn messed up for the past couple years. Not that I was amazingly stable before that or anything, but I swear there's been far too much wrong with me the past couple years for me to even see beyone my own hands. It's like there was a pair of glasses on my face that got so fogged up I couldn't see through them. I could just about make out what was going on, but I didn't even care.
My neices and nephews are growing up... without me... and that's kinda sad.
My parents are turning my room into a spare room...
My brother and sister probably don't know me anymore...
My sister is re-married now...
My friends... how the hell they've managed to put up with me over this period of time I'll never know. But I have to say thank you to them.
Thank you Kaydie, for always being there even when we're biting each others head off, or trying to stop the other from killing themselves - you're still always there for me, and I'm so gratefull for that.
Thank you Libor, for being my rock. For being the person who picked up the peices and held me together while I tried to remember how to do it myself. For kicking me up the ass and making me stand on my own two feet when I was being too stuborn to try. For never being too busy for me when I really needed you. For putting up with all my crap and just generally being the best friend a girl could ever ask for.
See, the thing is, I've come back now... and my closest friends have never really known me like this. They've only known me since I've been asleep... and it's hard to be me and who they expect me to be at the same time.
I suppose it's the choice that comes now, do I try to be who they want me to be, or do I be who I used to be? I don't even know if I can be who I was, maybe too much has changed... but it's worth the try. I've been someone else too long, just sleepwalking through life - dreaming my life away. No more. Time to take stock of what I've left myself with and build a life again.
Wish me luck! ^_^
Blessed Be xx
Sunday 14 November 2010
Wouldst thou makst us minstrels?
Do you ever re-evaluate things?
Lately I've been re-evaluating myself. Who am I, what am I...?
There are these little things that you think about yourself, and it's not until you really think about it that you even realise that you had those assumptions. Like, I always assumed I was witty... and now I'm trying to decide if I am or not. How do you decide something like that?
It makes you wonder what you want to be as well. Like - do I want to be witty? And if so, should I then try to be?
I always wanted to be a nice person. Always wanted to be good.
Okay, I don't achieve it, and I'm not a great person... but that's something I know that I want to try to do. That's something I actively want to try and do.
I forget a lot of the time. I'll catch myself doing things, and think - Damnit Lauren, you're supposed to be trying to be a good person! But then I have friends that say I am a good person, and I'm sat here (here being the library where I'm supposedly doing work) trying to decide whether they're too kind or I'm too harsh on myself.
I'm gonna stick with the they're too nice, because that way I'm on the safe side. Always better to try harder to be a better person than let people convince you that you are when you aren't.
Now that my PMT has broken a little it's really easy to feel optimistic and happy(ish) again. It's easy to be idealistic again, and hope that things can actually be as good as we want them to be.
Well, I say easy... it's still hard to keep my mind on a positive track, but it's like this:
My everyday mindset is like swimming upstream. You have this torrential current to fight against, and occasionally it's not as strong as you're used to...
But when I get PMT it's like there's something hooked around my ankles, dragging me not just backwards but under water. My depression becomes totally unmanageable.
I just wish I were regular enough to be able to pre-empt it. Be able to go "Okay, I'm coming on in a few weeks, so I'm going to start feeling like death soon. Preparation time!" But life isn't that simple, is it?
I love just sitting in the library though. I love being a student, I really do. It's as if that's what I've always just been destined to be. I want to study forever - learn everything there is to know. If I could describe my brain, I'd call it a sponge wanna-be, because it just wants to soak everything up and store it. If my brain could only be the internet... that would be AWESOME!!
I can imagine that one day we will be able to interface with the internet in a more permanent way, so that its electronic storage is accessible to us as if it were memory. Intelligence would then be determined not by what people know, but what people believe and how quickly they could access, understand, and mutate the code knowledge. By how much we add to the pool of knowledge.
It would be like being psychic, only you would be able to access history too. Everyone's thoughts just being like a blog that you could go read. Some people putting locks and blocks on theirs for privacy... and there'd be a way to decide what was recorded and what wasn't...
Imagine being able to connect with people through that medium? Thought to thought via the Internet. Being able to fully express yourself. MSN becoming some kind of Vulcan Mind Meld form of communication. Who would ever want to talk again, when you could just open yourselves to each other in that way? Able to see each other through our thoughts and feelings, not just the words we use to try and describe them. Would Language be necessary anymore? When you have pictures, feelings... would understanding still require words?
If we could communicate at the speed of thought, things would be infinitely more possible. We'd be able to do so much more. We'd be able to get on with projects instantly, be able to request funding from afar, in a way that expressed eagerness without needing to hide it. Not needing to hide kinks and faults, because the speed of delivery would mean people wouldn't get the wrong idea from what you were saying. They'd be able to see the entire picture and see exactly what you wanted to do and the way to overcome problems...
See, utopia could be built in a day if we were able to communicate in that way.
Communication is what holds us back as a society. Language is useless against such a barrier, because no matter what, there's always room for misinterpretation. There's always a way to miss-read it, or express it incorrectly. A way to say it wrong. A way to cause problems where there are none.
I suppose that's why I like studying Literature so much. Because there are so many way to read the same thing, and so many things can be expressed by saying so little - if you say it right. And then you can say so so much, without actually saying anything of any importance. You could ramble on for paragraphs and not have made a single point. It's just words that aren't really saying anything in particular.
Speaking of which, I'm going to stop rambling on now ^_^
Blessed Be xx
Lately I've been re-evaluating myself. Who am I, what am I...?
There are these little things that you think about yourself, and it's not until you really think about it that you even realise that you had those assumptions. Like, I always assumed I was witty... and now I'm trying to decide if I am or not. How do you decide something like that?
It makes you wonder what you want to be as well. Like - do I want to be witty? And if so, should I then try to be?
I always wanted to be a nice person. Always wanted to be good.
Okay, I don't achieve it, and I'm not a great person... but that's something I know that I want to try to do. That's something I actively want to try and do.
I forget a lot of the time. I'll catch myself doing things, and think - Damnit Lauren, you're supposed to be trying to be a good person! But then I have friends that say I am a good person, and I'm sat here (here being the library where I'm supposedly doing work) trying to decide whether they're too kind or I'm too harsh on myself.
I'm gonna stick with the they're too nice, because that way I'm on the safe side. Always better to try harder to be a better person than let people convince you that you are when you aren't.
Now that my PMT has broken a little it's really easy to feel optimistic and happy(ish) again. It's easy to be idealistic again, and hope that things can actually be as good as we want them to be.
Well, I say easy... it's still hard to keep my mind on a positive track, but it's like this:
My everyday mindset is like swimming upstream. You have this torrential current to fight against, and occasionally it's not as strong as you're used to...
But when I get PMT it's like there's something hooked around my ankles, dragging me not just backwards but under water. My depression becomes totally unmanageable.
I just wish I were regular enough to be able to pre-empt it. Be able to go "Okay, I'm coming on in a few weeks, so I'm going to start feeling like death soon. Preparation time!" But life isn't that simple, is it?
I love just sitting in the library though. I love being a student, I really do. It's as if that's what I've always just been destined to be. I want to study forever - learn everything there is to know. If I could describe my brain, I'd call it a sponge wanna-be, because it just wants to soak everything up and store it. If my brain could only be the internet... that would be AWESOME!!
I can imagine that one day we will be able to interface with the internet in a more permanent way, so that its electronic storage is accessible to us as if it were memory. Intelligence would then be determined not by what people know, but what people believe and how quickly they could access, understand, and mutate the code knowledge. By how much we add to the pool of knowledge.
It would be like being psychic, only you would be able to access history too. Everyone's thoughts just being like a blog that you could go read. Some people putting locks and blocks on theirs for privacy... and there'd be a way to decide what was recorded and what wasn't...
Imagine being able to connect with people through that medium? Thought to thought via the Internet. Being able to fully express yourself. MSN becoming some kind of Vulcan Mind Meld form of communication. Who would ever want to talk again, when you could just open yourselves to each other in that way? Able to see each other through our thoughts and feelings, not just the words we use to try and describe them. Would Language be necessary anymore? When you have pictures, feelings... would understanding still require words?
If we could communicate at the speed of thought, things would be infinitely more possible. We'd be able to do so much more. We'd be able to get on with projects instantly, be able to request funding from afar, in a way that expressed eagerness without needing to hide it. Not needing to hide kinks and faults, because the speed of delivery would mean people wouldn't get the wrong idea from what you were saying. They'd be able to see the entire picture and see exactly what you wanted to do and the way to overcome problems...
See, utopia could be built in a day if we were able to communicate in that way.
Communication is what holds us back as a society. Language is useless against such a barrier, because no matter what, there's always room for misinterpretation. There's always a way to miss-read it, or express it incorrectly. A way to say it wrong. A way to cause problems where there are none.
I suppose that's why I like studying Literature so much. Because there are so many way to read the same thing, and so many things can be expressed by saying so little - if you say it right. And then you can say so so much, without actually saying anything of any importance. You could ramble on for paragraphs and not have made a single point. It's just words that aren't really saying anything in particular.
Speaking of which, I'm going to stop rambling on now ^_^
Blessed Be xx
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)