May 2014
I have a problem; I have had it for quite some time. I
have a desire to speak to others about something but
that is not my problem. I have something to say, but
I am not sure others want to hear it; that is my
problem.
I have two questions: how will I know others will hear
me, and, how do I know they will listen.
I believe asking for permission to speak is contrary to
my constitutional right to speak freely. However,
asking to be heard is contrary to what I believe. For if
others do not believe as I, they will hear, if I am loud
enough, but will not listen.
I only listen to myself when I am alone. But it is
when I am alone that my desire to be heard is
overwhelms me. The words shout inside my mind. My
inner voice is loud and yet, it is only when I am quiet
that I hear.
When I write what I hear in my mind… ah now I have
something worth listening to. At least I think so. Why
else would I write?
I have written many words. At times they have been
merely strung together; fluid as water without a direct
course or meaning and unread by others. At times I
have attempted to make them concise, with a clear
and significant barney, and available to all. I have
more often succeeded at the prior while failing
successfully at the latter.
I wonder at my successes, my failures. The words I
hear when placed on paper sometimes, yes even to
me, sound different. I wonder then, when read by
others, how do they sound.
And when I am alone and listening; writing, reading,
changing the sound, the words… I struggle for
meaning. Not just for the words, but why I listen.
Why I write. I search for my truth and do battle with
thoughts of pain; for they cause me to become
depressed and still my hand.
But it is in the darkness of those moments that I
must write, if only to relieve the anguish. The battle
reveals my weakness and the words are, sometmes,
deceptive. I would be lying to you if I wrote I have
never lied to myself.
Before me is the path I follow
Behind me words now hollow
Perhaps best left unspoken
My spirit remains unbroken
As silent I remain
Writen words I shall retain
have a desire to speak to others about something but
that is not my problem. I have something to say, but
I am not sure others want to hear it; that is my
problem.
I have two questions: how will I know others will hear
me, and, how do I know they will listen.
I believe asking for permission to speak is contrary to
my constitutional right to speak freely. However,
asking to be heard is contrary to what I believe. For if
others do not believe as I, they will hear, if I am loud
enough, but will not listen.
I only listen to myself when I am alone. But it is
when I am alone that my desire to be heard is
overwhelms me. The words shout inside my mind. My
inner voice is loud and yet, it is only when I am quiet
that I hear.
When I write what I hear in my mind… ah now I have
something worth listening to. At least I think so. Why
else would I write?
I have written many words. At times they have been
merely strung together; fluid as water without a direct
course or meaning and unread by others. At times I
have attempted to make them concise, with a clear
and significant barney, and available to all. I have
more often succeeded at the prior while failing
successfully at the latter.
I wonder at my successes, my failures. The words I
hear when placed on paper sometimes, yes even to
me, sound different. I wonder then, when read by
others, how do they sound.
And when I am alone and listening; writing, reading,
changing the sound, the words… I struggle for
meaning. Not just for the words, but why I listen.
Why I write. I search for my truth and do battle with
thoughts of pain; for they cause me to become
depressed and still my hand.
But it is in the darkness of those moments that I
must write, if only to relieve the anguish. The battle
reveals my weakness and the words are, sometmes,
deceptive. I would be lying to you if I wrote I have
never lied to myself.
Before me is the path I follow
Behind me words now hollow
Perhaps best left unspoken
My spirit remains unbroken
As silent I remain
Writen words I shall retain
