I write letters
There are wondrous processes at work that are so complex.
Consciousness.
I often wonder what my thoughts would be if nobody had invented language, if they were left to be more abstract?
I wonder what a mind can think if it was cut off from the world?
I wonder if I think in words?
What are my thoughts, feelings and ideas?
I take a thought and reduce it into words. Each one of those words has a different meaning, nuance, feel and picture to you.
We communicate.
But how good is our communication?
I write letters into words and words into sentences and paragraphs. Each word is merely a symbol we have learnt. But can I really communicate the extent of what is in my head no matter how hard I try, how good I am with words?
Perhaps I am really only writing letters?
I write letters
I write letters.
I push the key and they appear
By magic on my screen.
I arrange them
In my thoughts,
In patterns I have learned;
In words.
And those words appear
Like magic
In my mind.
Each one a thought, an idea
A meaning.
Somewhere in my head
I find the feelings, dreams and thoughts
And reduce them into words.
I put the words on my screen
For you to read
In the hopes
That they explode
Inside your head
Into the same feelings, dreams and thoughts
That were in mine.
It is a vain hope.
So I spend my time
Hopelessly
Writing letters.
Opher 18.4.2016