Two months too long

I have a fear of my words and the power they have. The irritractable nature of them; the knowing of once they are out there, they can never be taken back, they perminitely rest in space and are taken on by all those who come into contact. There are no words that the world passes by becomed deemed insignificant cast into a shadow of oblivion and make no difference to any body for even the most mundane of conversations, the most futile of words, the everyday common conversations and the great insightful speeches of great orators throughout history are all thrown into the same pot.

There is no way, in this life, to not have an effect; to not change, shape, misshape, construy (sp?(how embarrassing)), convince, antagonize, or motivate. Just being is enough. Even if you fell silent since birth and did not let a word escape from the, no doubt, tempting mouth, that, in itself, still says something. The only way not leave a mark or blemmish upon the surface is not even to exist in the first place for nothing can ever be entirely destroyed. Words read, even by a single person, trickle down through the respective ages and eras, having presidence in conversations spanning centuries over ever land traversed by people.

Nothing is seperate. It is all connected, from the sky you saw this morning to the color of your coffee, the thought you had of the women who passed you by to the flipping through of mail, from writing a journal to ordering a meal, from talking to a lover to betraying a trust, nothing is singular. It all whirls together to effect every aspect of itself.

I am not sure if I am taking this blog serious as a platform for transparency and positivity. There are things that I hide, things I believe I am not ready, yet, to show, even to my most closest of friends, and, especially to family members (whom do not even know about this platform I choose to spout out my words). Instead, I use this posting as a station to empty my mind of the things that float around, in hopes of changing that into something better one day, but I am moving far now and wish to return.

There are no rules to blogging, I realize. There are no qualifications to met in order to have such a powerful tool at one's disposal. Any person with a computer/cell phone and an internet connection can make there words public for anyone to read which promote the best of ideas, but also spread the worst. There is a responsibility that lie in words. In the dialogue that is all words because no words are seperate from each other and each one holds just as much power as the next. There are no "soft" words; words that bounce off the world and drift into space unaccounted for do not existed. Words can be softly spoken, especially to a lover or in a moment of compassion, but words on their own are as hard as the anvil in which the blacksmith bangs his hammer on.

There can never be a record for all words spoken. Even if it became half the worlds job to write ever phrase, expression, dialogue, catch phrase, motto, title, and whisper ever spoken, billions of more words would slip through the recorded page of words that pass through our minds and whispered in silence in a moent of weakness or grave need of help. But no word is ever forgotten or completely erased. It is held somewhere unknown, in the mind where there are rows of records unaccessable to us, but perhaps, show themselves in dreams and visions of the night reminding us of things long ago thoght to be lost forever, but, really, just resting, sitting, waiting, collecting dust until it is brought up once again for no other reason than just to show you it is still there. Still, it is quickly forgotten in those first waking moments when dreams become disillusioned and the cousciousness takes back over. Dreams become no more than a vague, blurred darkness that is undistinguishable from the other nights, however every so often there is a dream that we cannot shake; a dream that comes and does not leave; instead it repeats itself like a skipping record reoccuring almost nightly and leaving deep impressiond on your wakeful hours. You change diet, habits but nothing stops this dream from repeating itself. Susan Water-Eller writes a fantastic blog where she has this fantastic tid bit of dream knowledge. Check it out.

Out of words. Off to bed.

Typing responsibly (hopefully),
anthony