Friday, December 7, 2012

Things To Say



I don’t speak good. When I noticed that others could express themselves without tripping over their tongue and had syntax that actually made sense, I realized that there was probably something wrong with me. So yea… I have dyslexia. Word of mouth dyslexia which is just disordered speech. Words come out all wonky and in the wrong order. It would be funny if it didn’t suck. Thankfully not a lot of people notice. When I mention that I have a speech impediment everyone is shocked. Also I have a theory about why I don’t speak well. When I was younger I was neglected a lot. Not like locked-in-a-cage neglected but hey-we-will-feed-you-and-shelter-you-but-just-don’t-bother-us neglect. Which was fine until I realized all the damage that it did.  Because I wasn’t interacting with people the parts of my brain related to speech weren’t being developed. I don’t talk much, or well, unless I am on a ridiculous rant, at which point I don’t give a dam if I start stuttering or mix up words. But I don’t want to talk about speaking today… I want to talk about not speaking.

I think that because I don’t want to talk I have learned to express myself in other mediums. Like writing for blogs, or posting on Tumblr or FB, or drawing, or painting, or listening to music, or reading, or sitting in silence, or making wonky facial expressions. I’d rather do any of those things than talk.

I also think that I’ve become an okay listener. But this week I had the opportunity to compare two conversations and I noticed something about listening that irked me.

In conversation number one the person talked to me. Told me about their life happenings and things we both found interesting. When we parted ways this person apologized for talking so much and thanked me for listening.
In conversation number two the person talked at me. Told me how I was living my life wrong and how when it all fell apart they wouldn’t be there for me. When we parted ways this person told me they were pissed and stomped away to their mommy.


Moral of the story: 

Don’t expect me to sit back and shut up so you can dictate my life. But also don’t be ashamed to talk to me and think I’m not listening when I’m not interjecting every thirty seconds.

I’m weird and I’m wonky but that’s just me.

I’ll say what I need to say and I’ll say what I want to say and if I feel like you won’t let me say those things then I will say that. But guess what? If you get mad at me for saying the things I need to say then don’t expect me to say them to you anymore. 

Capisce? 


SONG OF THE WEEK
So I've had this song on repeat for this week. It was a long week. And it's not done. And I really do like this song. Very relatable. 

Cheer Up- J. Cole

Ask what's the matter but you can't relate
Living a life that you hate but you can't escape
Feel like I'm stuck here
That's why I don't give a fuck here
There's no luck here, nobody to trust here
My own mother yeah I love her but things I heard as a child under my covers
Left me with scars it was hard to see her suffer
Ducking my heart and I don't know if I'll recover
I'm going under and as I'm headed out the front door
She say she proud of me and I wonder what for

Even through the joy I feel the pain
Even in the sun I feel the rain
Even when I'm high I feel the lows
Like that's all I know
And lord knows I can't complain
But even when I do it feels the same
I'm getting high just to fight the lows
Cause that's all I know







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