I like when it’s just noise and not chatter. Words are distracting because even though It’m not listening directly my mind clicks on in an area of my brain that I wish to let sleep sometimes. Which if you knew me you would understand how ironic that is.

I did not speak until I was three. My grandmother used to tell my mother to “enjoy it now. Once she starts talking she will never shut up.” She was spot on.

I used to talk so fast most would assume I was auctioning off cattle. The truth was I was auctioning off presence. Prattling away like a hen. I am now returning to my original state of verbal silence.

Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE words but I don’t think in words. I think in pictures of moving senses. I use words to try and describe the current of those senses when I step out of their embrace to shift into a worded mind. It’s exhausting sometimes and exuberant at others but always disengaging from where I prefer to be. That’s not to say I’m a recluse. I am decidedly not but I do like reclusiveness.