on finding the words
Hey. It’s been a while.
Life update, to say the least: I’m starting grad school soon. This means a lot of reading and writing beforehand (although not much here). In an effort to rewire my brain, I’ve been limiting social media use and touching grass and reading books when I’m not touching grass. Touching paper and grass, in other words. And if I must look at a screen, let it be a video essay on something that interests me, something that’ll teach me a new thing, a new fact, something of substance.
Oddly, I’ve had trouble finding the words. For… what, exactly? I asked myself this a lot this past month. I had trouble with comms with others. I stumbled a lot during work correspondence. I think some relationships I have may be treading stormy waters, too, from my lack. It’s pretty normal, I’d say. People experience these types of road bumps every so often. I told myself this, as if it would make it easier. Still, I navigate with this nagging frustration. The words aren’t wording. Or, they’re not even there to begin with.
It is indeed frustrating that I try to say what I mean but it all comes out as eddies of alphabet soup. I maintain an air of restlessness for the time being. I’m writing this to begin with because the books I’m cycling through incited a spark to write again. In turn, though, I communicate my frustrations. Not the prose idea I had the other week. Not an opinion piece on the three albums I’ve been looping this week. Only these missing jigsaw pieces in my vocabulary.
This is now an open letter to the word factory.
Dear Word Factory and co.,
What gives!
Thanks,
Venado
I hope the words find me instead. Maybe that’s the actual answer.