there is nothing left to say

[threeplusfire]

Just. Stop.

The world inside me keeps me apart. I would give a lot to know just how it is people see me, what they experience from the other side. Because I've realized so much of what I do just doesn't translate.

Like knowing someone for years and not truly knowing. Understanding proves so elusive.

How well can you see me? How well do you know who and what I am? Not just the trivia that makes up pop quizzes, or how long I've had these boots on, or what movie makes me cry. How well can you see why I move the way I do? Do you understand the altered vocabulary in my head, how the meanings and nuances are shifted?

I don't expect anyone to. It's like asking someone to become something completely different. Now I just hope for a good translation.

Because you aren't here, you aren't here when I am myself. ...I think she's just pieces of me you've never seen...

I am discovering how to live with myself.

Comments

[raindog.livejournal.com]

I appreciate so very much your articulation of thoughts that loom unformed in most of us, Tsarina.

"Do you understand the altered vocabulary in my head, how the meanings and nuances are shifted?"

A deceptively simple description of both our self-creation and definition, and our existence far beyond words.

Re:

[tsarina.livejournal.com]

Thank you. I am glad whe I can fling the words out like kites and others see them waving.

It's something I've been pondering for a long time, how language is so personal, how we all use words differently. Language is almost universal and yet so subjective. Such a wonder. It makes me love the writers whose words touch me all the more.