It is so obvious. Really. I’m not sure why it has taken me so long to see it. Perhaps I wanted to be blind. To humanize everything. But every blog, every status update, every tweet that I read at three in the morning — it’s all about words.
Only words. Not people.
Everything is writing. Words. And sentences. And commas.
People write these words. Nice people. Jerk people. Friendly people. Even people who don’t care if I live or die. All writing words that elicit an emotion from me.
But they are still words. Words strung together in a meaningful manner like carefully chosen laundry on a backyard clothesline arranged by color and size to evoke a specific passion. Love. Disgust. Or laughter.
Words can create RED FLASHES in my brain, or make me cover me ears to protect myself from the SCREECHING ON THE BLACKBOARD. But they are all words.
It is all writing.
You are all writing. I am all writing. We are all words.
We are not people here. We are words.