Friday, August 20, 2010

Language is the voice

After 3 months of resettling, still unsettled, I find myself back again into this blank page.
I made some friends, learned some new words in a different language, and been pushing the envelope wherever needed. I've never really experienced too much inadequacy (except for the times when I intentionally drowned myself into deep sedated depression) and for the first time I understand what the "deafening silence" means. What I really mean is, when in a foreign country where the majority speak something else other than standard english, not being able to have real decent conversations is a true disability for anyone who loves people and stories. Even when I can be zen and enjoy the infinite quiet of the soul sitting in lotus position, theres a loss in not being able to connect with people within your proximity. I recall describing it in the beginning, "as if I lost my voice."

Because helplessness doesn't help, I took it as it was. The inevitable final examinations for a class I've been skipping for the longest time - patience insisted I do what I'm told. Lord knows how ugly that can be especially when you start snapping at the one person you can honestly talk to. "So forgive me, love" goes the song. Its nothing personal, I just hate it when I don't get what I want. Call it reflex of the little kid in the toyshop pointing at the useless barbie doll she thinks she needs. Well in this case, I do really need to learn and speak Italian, fast - like, if I could do a matrix jedi mind trick and install Italian on my system, I would. But instead I get to work on a real challenge.

Language is power. Its really something to behold. Sheesh.
(loss of words)

Fuhhreeeedumm

I was often taught to keep my shameless positivity (and extra enthusiasm for all things beautiful and experiential) to myself, lest I overwhelm the other -or worse, I "disturb" the other (inversely, I be taken as the naive sacrificial virgin). Nobody likes to be shaken or stirred and everyone wants to keep things temperate, a way for staying in control and keeping the boundaries. but, and i mean BUTT, theres no other way to be free than to allow oneself this possibility - laugh for chrissakes, cry, notice those tense muscles contract then relax. Temperance will come naturally without your need to control anything.

*note to self*

From Sardegna