Muse me

You ever feel like you are sitting on an island? It's strange. Even when I sit in a crowded place like the metro, I will feel a bob of the waves even while the train is sitting still. Even while I sit in that crowded space, I am chilling on a deserted island. I'm in a far away place in a short story by  Zora Neale Hurston, in my pod...my ipod.

At work I sit in an office, proofing memos, writing request and ordering certificates. When I get to call someone, I put on my best phone voice and I get excited. I never know if I will get someone nice who will help me out or an unhelpful beauracrat who I'll have to charm into getting what I want or maybe someone sad who I'll cheer up, at least try. The work isn't bad. I like the projects that the attorney's give me and say, "you think you can find out.." and I do. But still, it's work. I have an image to maintain, a role to play.

I think I'm trying to say a lot at once with out being direct about things. Cause what is the fun in being direct if one cannot interpret?

Language itself is a very precarious science. Music is good and so is singing and poetry because people understand what you are getting across, but in language, we argue over meanings and definitions and word choice. Communication is too big to be exact, too complicated. I like proper English for it's precision, but I like watching French and Italian people speak for their beautiful tones and the way they can use their whole body to express something. And here I am trying to communicate with charecters that are put together to make sounds we understand. I guess that is why I like authors like Marquez, Harukami, and Hemingway - their powerful metaphors, the way they can paint a picture with words, etc. and perhaps what I'm trying to capture in the image of a boy on the train full of people, but alone.