Words are boxes and each and every one of us paints them with colours no one else sees. The more words we learn the more we think we live in a spacious house with a garden, but still they limit us, still we are scared to go out sometimes. Some people, like women in chauvinistic cultures, live in a world of 2000 words or less. Some may think it's cosy in there, since you wouldn't have much to clean or fix like a small flat downtown, but most are trapped in a very small cage, with no shelves to put their worldly memories on. Their memories are hanging in the air, which could as well be nice.
I have boxes inside boxes, words inside words, and despite the fact that I have many thousands of boxes, the way they are intricately piled makes any abstract wind a big threat. Would they fit the physical idea I try to convey? Mostly they don't and it's partly my fault.
I sometimes make new boxes euphorically, compulsively, to later find out that I'm only building my own dungeon, what doesn't stop me from decorating it with care. But after spending so much time trying to fit our different concepts inside the same boxes I decided to pretend for a few moments I live in one box only, and it feels good. It made me make fewer boxes and also open them to free the content. Right now, as I finish this writing, I'm walking into a very tiny box, and all things in life have no name.
12 comments:
...and names have no things.
if you can talk about it, that's not it.
xx
Your name suits you, Anonymous.
Get your box out for the lads ;¬]
~
Word Verification was 'urrockk'.
& I am currently sporting one of these.
It's kindof a balancing act between their size, what's in 'em and how they stack - really we're talking magic when you say the colours of words i.e., the art of speaking or writing, clothing formlessness, with a magus who is expansive or timid, dull or bright. Question: is true life bright or dull? What would an expressionist say? Should one tolerate depression?
Your piece is gay Paulette - it is tolerable and lifelike.
Bonne nuit!
HD
"True life", mate? Sorry, I don't like cardboard colour, HD.
Twit, honey, life is hard. I won't get my box out for you unless you get your out first.
I have no idea why you told me, "life is hard" - in this instance; although, while we're on it, I couldn't agree more.
Life, to me, is so hard it's like there's some kind of seriously perverted sense of humour at work ..
& of course, there is!
As for my 'box' comment - it was just a cheap sexual-innuendo-gag ...
Or did you know that & are thereby implying that I'm a girl or something?
/Scat/
I didn't know you were a girl Twit, and you definitely made me laugh a lot. :)
Words are double edged, is that what you are saying? I've felt like this, that language can give and take at the same time. While giving us power in expression, it can also limit our thinking. Or something like that.
Nice post (for lack of better words).
All life is cardboard to a clown who despises make up. Make believe or paranoia - stunning choice Trickster!
If boxes were words,
beggars would write.
start with a sound, then add definition.
cockabindi!
Post a Comment