What'd I Say

So, I've realized the error of launching raw words into the atmosphere. They reveal all too much. And then some.

I want to spend the day talking 96% with my eyebrows. Honestly, how much of what we want to communicate actually needs to be spoken? I'm talking about what is truly necessary to say. The more loquacious folks probably talk in about three quarters dross. Most of what most people say seems to be fluff. It is small talk. And don't get me wrong, there's a great deal of charm in clever conversation. And that's what I'm talking about here. Just simple every day conversation. Not speeches, not sermons, not essays. Just how we speak to each other. But what if we amputated the "um" and the "ya know?" and the "haha, yeah" from our daily dialogues? The ornamentation of dead air is one of the strongest impediments to any meaningful confabulation. My constant tendency is to be lazy and sling my words out like mashed potatoes (let alone my poor articulation). But if my words were to stand up straight and represent a heart and a mind that wants to be heard, how much deeper could they penetrate their targets? I'm going to try and be sparing with my words. I'm going to only hold them back until I'm ready to use them. And when I use them, I'm going to paint them in all the colors of my mind and teach them to dance to my back beat.

I feel better now. The written word is a sweet getaway car.

Let's re-instate an old tradition, shall we?. Here is your PB from J for today: "There is nothing nearby. Not for miles."