Your Smile On Fire

...from the song Xavia

on words of both varieties

     There's something unique about writing. About sending your words to people via the screen or paper instead of via the spoken word. I'm not a big fan of the telephone to tell you the truth. I can think of only a handful of people - not even that, really - that I actually enjoy talking on the phone too. This is, I suspect, because I'm no good at expressing myself this way. In general I tend to be a clumsy person. I trip over nothing, spill things, am a complete klutz. I swear I could never make it as a dancer or a soccer player - nothing where coordination is key. The only time I am really graceful, the only time I don't resemble Bambi the first time he went out onto the ice, is when I'm writing.

     I tell people things, and the words that leave my mouth never seem to be the same as they were when I thought them. I often get that sensation everyone gets sometimes, of wanting to shove the words back in your mouth before they escape out into the air. But it's always too late. The words are out there in the open and they sound horrible. Not bad like crude or anything, just confusing. Whatever it was I meant to say didn't come out right, it never does, except sometimes when I'm being funny.

     I don't really know if this would be considered a "flaw" or not, but I prefer to write rather than talk. It's not like I'm a mute or anything, but I've never learned to make the words coming from my mouth flow as well as those coming from my fingers. I consider myself an okay conversationalist. I'm alright at small talk and all that stuff, but when I really really have something to say... I write it. Like the essay for example? I could have never said those words, but I was perfectly okay writing them. The thing is, when I say something, when I can hear the words echoing in my head even after they've left my mouth, I have this sort of subconscious fear. This fear that the words won't be understood, that I shouldn't have said it, that the words I planned to say aren't even the ones that came out. It's not an overwhelming fear or anything, not like the way I'm scared to ride rollercoasters, but it's still there. Not when I write though. When I write it's almost like it doesn't even matter if the person understands or not. Because secretly, even in emails or letters or text messages, or things like this blog, I'm always writing more for myself than anyone else.

     So maybe that's it. The words I say are always for others, so I want them to come out right. The words I write, however, are always for myself, and there's time to fix them if they come out wrong, like they so often do.



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Oct. 15 [going to work soon] [two school essays due; majorly nervous about both] [remember when i wrote that short story where the girl said "majorly" every other WORD practically? ha]