I occasionally find myself in a state where emotions and the deepest feelings within my mind, heart and soul are unable to be spoken. They are felt, but inaudible. They are contained and never freed. They are the essence of words and sounds which never make it past the end of my lips.
Formed in my mind, these inaudible emotions begin to take on structure. Lofty, simple, long, short… they begin to take form. They form shapes. They hollow out sections of themselves. They twist and turn. They start to organize themselves in a straight line. Then, a space- a gap. Then they return. Scrolling along in this straight line, I begin to see more and more of them fly by across my mind’s eye as if they were sheet music on a player piano. Any color painted by these emotions quickly fade into stark black and white. Black figures on white canvas appear, still forming themselves as they scroll through this visible room in my head. Then in an instant, time stops. These figures become clear. They are words! I make out what is a capital letter. I see grammatical structure. I find punctuation. Then within my own mind, I begin to read.
Ever so slowly, the words begin to move again. They scroll from left to right at the speed of my comprehension. I survey each individual letter and space, for each represents a feeling, an emotion begging to be released from the confines of my innermost being. These feelings, these words… they would take much time to speak. The mind forms these feelings into sentences. Dramatic, deep sentences. But the mouth is still unable to speak a thing; not one syllable. But in this silent wordplay of mental composition, a movement is seen. My hand begins to scale a blank canvas. Black ink on white paper. The words begin to scroll from my mind on to the paper in front of me. They suddenly become existent in a form other than what is felt. They are physically seen. They are in front of me. They have expressed what I was unable to speak.
This is why I write.