I spent a lot of time these past few days thinking about words and how I find them and fall in love with them. There are some words that stick to certain time periods like songs, others are personally mine and I like to keep them quietly in my mouth only saying them when they are the right ones to share. I love to wander through dictionaries and see all the alternate meanings of words, or how simple words are defined.
But I also avoid certain words, some for aesthetic others because they aren’t for me to have. It can become a dance of not saying sometime, trying to get to your point absolutely without using the simple words. And we do this why? Some times I think if I say something it becomes true. Or if I say something out loud it will make it not happen. Then there are the times that you avoid the words you mean to use because you are afraid.
So here I am the woman who fills pads of yellow paper with words, and sometimes she is silenced by insecurity, by fear. Those moments when it is better to keep the ideas in pictures in my head.
Still others I can’t help but put everything I see and think into words. I love looking at people I don’t know and creating lives for them. Sometimes I feel like I’ve made them so real that I really just read their lives, regardless of the truth. It’s a fun way to go through the day when things are going slower than I want them to.
There is an old woman crossing the street right now in Hawaiian print pants, snow boots, a gray jacket and red mittens and hat. She has the gait of some walking for health, someone determined to hold onto themselves while everything else shifts. Her large squarish glasses are rosy gray giving her gray hair a yellow tint.
Two blocks from here in front of the bagel store a group of in-patients from the eating disorder center stand and have cigarettes. It is hard not to stare at them while we eat. Sometimes one of them is in a wheelchair. I wonder how anyone can hate themselves or food so much. How their minds can twist the beauty of eating into a disease.