Thursday, September 26, 2013

the cat mudda

people say they hear my voice in their heads telling the story when they read what i write. i try to have an anonymous column and they guess who authoring because they make out the sound of my words. they done say i talk weird, i talk like a book, i talk funny...but for somebody who's talk like a book, when i write how i speak, how words come+play inside my head and on my page doh sound like anybody else. my words insist on writing themselves their way even when, even though, that flies in the face of the accepted/accessible way, even when, even though i know my primary job, as creative, is communication, or the work cyah bring no thought-provocation...a standout voice supposed to be good, but not if it mean you have to know me to read me...right?
ownwayish, to the point of self-detriment; a writer limiting my audience.
sigh.
walk good.

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