sometimes a text needs to grow as a picture grows – it starts somewhere and ends elsewhere. Or not. Sometimes it just feels like as something needs to be said but the words are not found yet. It feels like a dream forgotten right after waking up.
There is something. So we let the words fly until they find their right positions. What can be said in a world where words do not make sense anymore. Even everything is already said but nobody is listening or words are not enough to describe what it going on. Or maybe the words are enough to describe what is going on but to use them does not make sense.
Words might be the connection between the things out there and the world in us. We think in words and we describe ourselves as well as everything around us in words. We try to express emotions in words. We put them in chains of grammar and structure. Even the untellable needs to follow the rules. Even the wildest dream needs to follow the strict rules of language. So language rules and restricts.
But words make thoughts real. Even more, words make everything real. Humans live within their own story. But the story needs to be told to become real. Only if we talk about things, if we say what is going on in our mind, it becomes real. Only if foreign people share their story with us they become real for us. Only if we are part of a story we become real. Everything exists, but nothing is real without being told.
Words can kill and words can love. Words build our world and they are used to descibe what we should see. Or what we see. The more words we know the better we are to bend all existence, to tell stories in different ways.
Why all this might be important? I don’t know… just words.