Word Jamming: A Reader’s Struggle To Hold Onto Words
This was written on February 20th, 2013. I no longer have this mild PD.
Word Jamming. Those were the first two words that popped into my head. Hmph.
Every word I’m unfamiliar with that I read somewhere, I want to get to know. In the ink stained onto every page turned, I want to cram every word into every crease of my brain. I want them to diffuse through my membranes and hibernate in my cerebrospinal juices. I want them etched onto the walls of my skull and the folds of hypodermis behind my face. I want them to roll onto my tongue at my will and kiss away the woes of my friends and foes.
Just kidding, that bitch can cry.
I want to hear the sound of magic. Ding. I want to know every word and every one of its spells it spells. But.. for some unfortunate reason, I can’t. I can’t meet or constrain them all. They’re all too much alive.
Why won’t they all stay for longer than a cup of tea? Why don’t some excuse themselves before walking away? How rude. I want to know why some are so small and delicately light, yet some obnoxiously won’t shrink back to a bearable size. To those that sink to the soles of my feet, you are a drag.
Stop falling off with the flakes of my skin.
I want to know why some, crawl up my throat and pry their way out of my mouth, while others, hang loosely in clusters on my thyroid. They hang there like, “What’s up?’” Well I don’t know, you tell me. Tell me why they won’t stop tantalizing me. Stop the voices at my eardrums, the bustling in my stomach, the burning itch of desire to fully, and eternally, possess. I want to jam all of you into a giant wordpie. To pulp all of you into rich, sweet wordpulp. Mmmm..
But I’d rather they stay as they are.
I’d rather they tug at my neurons and dance in my dreams, than for me to sit here, lost for words. Than for them to not even hear me whisper,
Please, do stay a little longer.