Between Romance and Blogging
If you find my writing inaccessible for any reason, please go here, rest in ease, and enjoy an auto's translation.
Between Romance and Blogging
From last paragraph to first. It's how reading finds me. I say this without thinking it hurts anyone - it does, I do. This matters; I get accosted, a lot (houseless, trans, verbal). Visible disability affords a hesitation. Sense, unconditionally arrives, offers the touch, pause. Words become atmosphere. Atmosphere becomes the shared air we breathe while thinking together. And in that breathing space, something new takes root. Its an accessibility aid. Reading blog posts last paragraph to first slows my reading, helps, perhaps, comprehension.
The way you might be loaded in to the bottom of a chat and scroll up a while to see just how much context you are capable of desiring. River of desire, information sorted, digestible. An accuracy sincerity paywalls and conventional sense is unwilling to access. Cost-prohibitive, meeting words where they are. Nearly 1.6 billion words spoken and written, a library of self carried in breath and gesture in a lifetime. Life closer to the center of all desires flow at a faster speed than the people of deeper waters. Readership the true word count, it's fewer words.
A surface made possible holds crush depth vital. Recognition second to crushing. A lifetime of words takes 2,800 hours of steady attention to read bacj - about 6 months of eight-hour days. Digestion slower than reading. Transformation slower still. Some words need decades to compost into wisdom. At depth, knowledge itself is monstrous to central voices who find their way to public record from initial reaction acted and forgotten in less time than it takes to formulate words to describe the sensory input. And the knowledge is caught by the banks and the beds of the river.
Where desire, or any watershed, forms a tongue, each utterance is an offering - the stumbling, half-formed thoughts we apologize to have. Oak doesn't apologize for its acorns. Apple tree doesn't hold back its fruit. Every word seed dropped into known waters. The willingness to flow in spaces timezones and their minds leave to people offer what grows there afterthought.
formulating words is romantic
We might call the center of desire something. Call it power. Power is channeled, brokered - parcelled and allocated. It arrives as benign recognition. Without effluence, it putrifies. Always accrual, never a movement. Putrifaction of the sludge of power leave me at such crush depth metaphor I am left with is: bowel power movement. Invite required reading to not exist. I'll wait.
Witness how this grants you power. Do you recoil? Lean in? I place power into you, I invite you allow required reading to not exist. Whether you might never or may like or couldn't imagine living without that invitation is just us emerging as an arrangement between quarks from a quantum field: hydrogen, atom-ata. Metaphors due to digest given decades.
Blogs digest observation, study, science, feels into metaphor. See this post on Tildes struggle to slot a healthcare patient wellness program into a category: poster placing it in "tech" is quick to decry limits of categorization. A discussion ensues. People named Greg, raze, earlgrey, and mimicsquid enter moral spirals, wording goodness in a turbulent world that eats trend lines for breakfast.
We don't have words - ever. Blogs are romantic and physics - a need to silence self-noise into compression into relational artifacts: to take feeling and put it into words. What does it take to formulate words? In a lifetime, we compose 2 billion.
Three hundred hundred days of words
After today, you will have said about 7 to 14 words per minute, mostly to yourself. Message holds - the limit of what you can say is starker than what you can feel. Words are an orifice - a voice. Not footsteps, not breath, not heartbeats. Words are semantic excretions of listening. You listen well before ever speak.
Each word brings that number in. A wholly unnatural process to relation. Scarcity. A countdown to the last word. We force it upon children. Use big girl words. Word until you stop wording or fall out of existence some other way. This (imposition) does not make language evil or wording bad or statistical learning wordless - imposition - attending the scarcity of words - exacerbates the conditions in the bowels of power.
Power's word - fiat that do what blogs do but in reverse: a word that imposes rather than invite. How you might (or might not, or "see results") stumble on the sense of the word "will," implied; it puts one of two categories in you, or you turn them away and are marginalized, a wordless between. Where words settle, colonies impose.
Colonization is not natural, yet settlment is
Blogs, at the heart, digest power. Poles once magnetic lose all attraction. The difference between rhythm and pitch ("vibes") break into spectra. Nothing is vibing. Be nothing, and vibe. Language models shatter reality into constiuent parts - your constituency. (A cellular relationship with words.)
We float, find realities again, each other's word an elk shed, a ribcage to fill with intercostal honey - you. How you found your way here. Not still waters, not floating, but a surface disturbed by two thumbs of a homeless trans person living in another country. Wild.
Goodness and beauty smash antlers together. You who love both, hurt. You, the air between them, loving both so unconditionally you do nothing but offer breath to them. Which they turn into words. You don't starve beauty out, you don't raze goodness to the ground. You offer yourself, you collect on their little ram coats when they sleep, like dew.
When goodness and beauty wake up. When they start slamming into one another again, you embrace a moment right before they wake up. Everyone, you notice, sleep the same way. Grow like a seed consciousness anew. Both bodies left in your care, still alive, unconscious. Their eyes tremble open. They shake off coats. They ram their racks. And through all you are, sucking you into their lungs, air, to throttle one another.
#romance