Words lining up, soldier like amassing power importunate and presumptious egoes pushing forward, making themselves heard still, how inadequate they are these witnesses pointing at themselves often they don't even speak the truth Reborn through connotations and fashions this language of ours re-creates itself our words are not fixed in eternity changing shape and content, flittering like waves only animals' wordless one stays immaculate our language grows young every few years part of it becomes meaningless to old people wild blabberings from Babel, maybe set to music living languages prick us with spears of noise this communication may turn generations into strangers ALL rights reserved © EC
Originally Posted On Site: 2010-03-21 17:36:26
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