“How are you?”
“Not too bad.”
It is the hardest question to answer; I never do it right. The follow-up question, without fail, is always this, “What do you mean you’re-”
I don’t know what happened, or why, but all of a sudden I feel at a loss for words. It’s been a few days, and I don’t know what to make of it. My heart feels constricted, my head is spinning; I am near tears, and I… don’t know why. Is everything okay? It is, really it is, but I can’t seem to come up with words to describe this ache.
I’m reading more quotes than usual lately, and I think I’m sharing more than I usually do, too. Could this be the cause? As other people’s words float and sparkle within my sphere, I am unable to come up with my own. Is this insecurity rearing its horns again? I sense unruly background noise, but my writing voice feels firm. Is this bruised ego and pride, once more? I just lost two more readers today. Is it death by literature, or writing in itself? I’ve been eating, living, thinking, reading, and breathing writing for the past few weeks. Is it all too much?
This is how I function: thoughts swirl around in my mind, everything and nothing. In all the headiness, words take shape. They float around me, like an invisible cloud above my head. Most of the time I let them be, and let them play among themselves. Sometimes I pick them up, swirl and unfurl them, arrange and rearrange them, piece them together and break them apart; I am never without them.
I like numbers; I appreciate their steadiness, like thick, concrete slabs. They don’t shake due to the wind, nor do they crush when met with thunderous rain. Their certainty never fails to astound me, and the awe has gotten me far – I’m now an engineer.
I like numbers, I appreciate them – but I live through words; spoken, written, lost, translated, conjured, and even silenced. I count numbers, and I have the deepest respect and appreciation for them – but they are not effortless, unlike words.
It’s been a few days; it’s worrying. I am rarely without them.
(I… can’t… continue… the words, they’re just not coming to me)