We All Think We Have Something to Say.
We are full to overflowing. Synapses connecting, linking, birthing ideas.
Surely the world needs to know what's on our mind. Our thoughts, our griefs, our passions, our angst. Our burden will not be confined. Our compulsion to exposit is strong. The urge to illuminate overwhelms. It will not be denied.
Words issue forth from our finger tips or our lips in dribbles or in torrents. Ejected with might, they barely linger, directly evaporating in the heat of the sun. We are oblivious. We see them as diamonds, forever valuable and beautiful, not vapor here and gone.
What seems so critical, so crucial, so primary is a merely momentary molecular disturbance. Undetectable in the bink of an eye.
It does not matter that no one is listening. Not relevant is the fact no one cares. We shout to the wind, we rail at the clouds, we scream at the tide. The effect is plain, our impotence is clear.
But we continue unswayed. Like it or not, we have so much the world needs to hear. Hear they must, so speak we must, and we do.
Dust informing dust.