Silence is alchemy
Spiels of confused mumbling, interjected randomly with frantic/lazy (if it's possible to be both simultaneously..), incoherent, ill-defined, elusive punctuation...
Such is the style of my writing. People seem to interpret the word "style" as a complimentary adjective to any given subject, but that is not the definition I have read. It simply means the typographic arrangement of the jumble of words that one throws together - and as it is written by you, as such, it is distinctive to you (albeit probably similar in a million turns of phrases and punctuation errors). I point this out in such elaborate length for the same reason I guess that makes me distinctive as a person. I do not want to own any pride in what I produce. I do not want to lend any credence to a belief that I consider my ramblings to be worthy of merit or interest. I want others to know this, so they believe I have more to offer. I don't want them to think that by reading my words spewed forth in any given state of eruption, that they can somehow glimpse my soul or anything. I want to believe that I can do better...
No word spoken can ever be retrieved,
But silence doesn't carry her own weight..
She whispers a thousand thoughts and doubts
Without releasing a one,
And feeds on the insecurity
Of the weak....
Such is the style of my writing. People seem to interpret the word "style" as a complimentary adjective to any given subject, but that is not the definition I have read. It simply means the typographic arrangement of the jumble of words that one throws together - and as it is written by you, as such, it is distinctive to you (albeit probably similar in a million turns of phrases and punctuation errors). I point this out in such elaborate length for the same reason I guess that makes me distinctive as a person. I do not want to own any pride in what I produce. I do not want to lend any credence to a belief that I consider my ramblings to be worthy of merit or interest. I want others to know this, so they believe I have more to offer. I don't want them to think that by reading my words spewed forth in any given state of eruption, that they can somehow glimpse my soul or anything. I want to believe that I can do better...
No word spoken can ever be retrieved,
But silence doesn't carry her own weight..
She whispers a thousand thoughts and doubts
Without releasing a one,
And feeds on the insecurity
Of the weak....

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