i’m naturally quiet. partly because i’m shy. but mainly because i think words are used far too much. i live and breathe words but people just seem to use them willy nilly. a poem is as much its pauses as its words. what’s wrong with silence? i hate small talk. i hate most vapid conversation. of course not everything has to be metaphysics and poetry… i just hate vapidity i suppose.
oh and partly because i know half the things that come out of my mouth interest no one but me. like that. i think so much, far too much. i spend hours at night thinking about these things. there are so many things running through my head at any given moment. this tends to manifest in me rambling. rambling about my plans to kidnap patrick wolf. rambling about my plans to marry a russian man and live ona potato farm and make vodka. rambling about my plans to be a romance novellist. rambling about my Fascinating Theories on female sexuality, the value of kindness, the importance of passion, the issue of body image and size in our society… etc.etc.
so i guess its a bit of a paradox. at once i don’t use words enough, because i am quite shy, and i’m constantly afraid of making a fool of myself. and i use words far too often.