Do you ever talk with angels?
Wait, hold up – if you aren’t sure how you want to answer that just yet, let me roll this out another way:
I have the weirdest thing for wires right now. As in: power lines. (Barbed wire, too, but that’s probably another conversation.)
I keep snapping pictures of them. I know it’s springtime and the thing to do would be to photograph flowers but for me, for some reason, it’s wires. They fascinate me.
I’m writing but only in the sense that words are standing next to one another in a line across the screen.
They mock me with their blankness. I knock them over backwards.
I construct another little wall of letter-soldier-figures, punching them into place and they march, left to right, single file as I’ve instructed.
But they won’t speak on my command; empty words have nothing to say.
Is . . . ?
Not the solid wall we often imagine it to be. The one we fear brushing up against.
It’s not the sort of stoic, finite, dead space of a concrete block we try so deftly to avoid slamming into.
Silence, instead, is a living thing.
Click to hear me read this post:
Forget everyone you know.
Don’t abandon them, leave them, kick them to the curb (and if you do, for heaven’s sake don’t blame it on this blog post, man).
You don’t have to wish them harm or push or shove them out of your way. Just politely forget them. Just for a few minutes.
Forget about what their voices sound like or what they say, or what you imagine they might say.
Forget the Twitter chats and the Facebook postings.
Forget about what they tell you, what they don’t tell you, or what they ask of you.
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