It’s too quiet. I can hear the inside of my ears. It’s like a little white noise. Or maybe it’s a ringing? Do I have tinnitus? I’ve used a lot of power equipment over the years. Chainsaws specifically. Years of this.
They used to test our hearing every year. The boss would say “So and so your hearing test is at 10:00.” They would say “huh?” And prétend not to hear.
Is this what listening to yourself really is? Hearing the ringing in your ears from damage. Sometimes I think I can hear the blood rushing though them. Or through and around? Or is it the fluid in the ears? Why can’t we hear the fluid draining when it’s draining in our ears during a cold? You could tell the doctor “I know I have fluid in my ears, I can hear it.” Yet you can’t quit hear anything else.
What if I sat and listened to that and thought nothing? Do people really clear their minds? Don’t you have to say in your head “clear your mind” just to “clear your mind.”Like when people say “no more talking,”and they say back, “you just talked,”and you say “so did you.”It goes on for too long with a toddler. Or some adults.
Why would I quit thinking? What would go on inside my head if I did? I’ve tried to say a word over and over to sooth my thoughts. A mantra I think it’s called. I can’t pick a word. It’s too hard. I change it constantly. I want it to really mean something. Maybe that’s the problem. It should just be like “hot dog.”
Not some deep meaningful word. When I say a word for too long it starts to sound funny, even like another word. Then I wonder where the word derived from. I always thought it would be fun to get to be the person who writes the sentences they use for an example in the dictionary. Here is hot dog used in a sentence. “The hot dog was hot.””I love hot dogs.” Hot dog is actually 2 words. A compound word. Two put together. Not sure why I clarified that. It can also be a verb. Hotdogged- to perform in a conspicuous or often ostentatious manner or an interjection to express gratitude. Also not sure why I clarified and defined any of that. Bored. Never once did my mind stop when I tried to say hotdog a lot. Now I just actually want hotdogs and to hotdog something or someone.
Do they have to follow a script when choosing these sentences? What if the person got to really chose?Basically writing a book of sentences with every single word that needed defined. I’m sure it’s a team and a committee and maybe not even done by a human brain anymore.
It would also be fun to get to research where a word derived from. Is this done? Are we done making great words? Now words are just changing, evolving. It seems language has gotten lazy and we will soon need a dictionary to tell us what things are abbreviated or in symbols. Here is a picture of a hot dog. Back to picture books like children. Spell it? H.d. Or maybe h. Dog. Just to be cool like the cool kids.
Words are in danger. Now the word “word”is sounding funny. I just said it like a gangster, no hipster? No that’s kind of stereotypical? I said it like this, “word. To yo’ mother.”Its in a song? Maybe, words in songs aren’t my strong point. It’s a saying I hear some various none stereotypical people say. With a little dig in motion. Or they just say “word”as an answer to mean “I agree.”I will soon need this picture book and new dictionary to communicate with others. Or maybe I just won’t. “Word.”Out.
I used a lot of quotes. I wanted to show conversation with myself. And emphasize the use of a word. I’m not even sure of the rules for quotation marks. I don’t remember where the period goes, inside or out. There are some rules. I probably shouldn’t write blogs. My general rule is not to use punctuation to show emotions. Semi colons and colons and parenthesis don’t smile, frown or wink. They are serious business. I’m not a grammar police but there are some. I respect the rules but don’t know them and wish I could understand them. Grammar rules!
My phone is also part time French. I’ve tried undoing it. So occasionally it usés that little thing right over there over the word “uses”. I also don’t have proper paragraphs. My thoughts aren’t broke up that way. I’m a run on sentence nightmare and short sporadic paragraph user. I sometimes just add a space to show space. A moment you can’t feel me taking a little break in my mind so I’m showing it.
I write in cursive, I teach my child to. I have a magnet that says “save cursive”. I once disputed the use of connecting my letters with a teacher. I didn’t want to change. I wanted to stay printing forever. I learned the rules and didn’t want new ones. Like now. I know something and don’t want to know something different to do what I did, just in a different way. With the same outcome just at a faster pace. One which I don’t know how to moderate. I still hand write so much because it hurts my wrist after a few hours. So I stop. I can type out rampant thoughts until the next day. It gave my boundaries. It slows the mind down. I can’t cursive fast since I’m still reciting the rules I learned and was reminded of so many times that I argued with. How to neatly connect letters to make words.
Now I type doing the same thing. Knowing the rules are speed and very little thought to accurately punctuating. Knowing that an underlined word needs looked at closer. That I can be given options of words that I might mean even before I know what I mean. I’m not using my own mind anymore. Like math. It’s the hardest thing I know how to do which is why I try and do some basic math in my head often. So I never forget how. I add license plates up to make specific numbers. I don’t like letters on license plates. They can’t be added. I also didn’t like letters involved in general in algebra. The alphabet didn’t seem to need to be involved in my numbers that were already hard enough. Yet math makes sense everywhere you go until you make it currency everywhere you go. It is a global language. I add, subtract divide or multiply the minutes on the clock to make the hour. Or make the hour meet the minutes. I do this with radio stations.
I’m sorry grammar people.(dad, teachers) When my handwritten things are written they are done so well that I bury them in the ground to protect them from others. Too afraid to share, too afraid of rejection, or criticism. Too afraid of the world or myself. I have no idea how math got stuck in the midst of this word issue I needed to work through.
Aspenleaf 