you point to so many things I’m trying to think through.

First, your reply reminded me of this Fitzgerald quote: “I don’t want just words. If that’s all you have for me, you’d better go.” I remember sending this to some lover, imaginary or real, I don’t even remember. It also reminds me of a Warsan Shire lyric, “you can’t make homes out of human beings, someone should have already told you that”.

I wonder — words, letters, semiotic structures, sign systems, discourse… intercourse. How can we not become nothing? Is our ontological status dependent on/constitutive of meaning making and signification? I guess that’s why thinkers like Kristeva focus so much on the chora, the space of becoming, and the space of pre-signification. Even though that in itself is an impossibility. She does delineate this process in a book, called, no less, “Revolution in Poetic Language.”

There’s also the expression verbal diarrhea which you somewhat point to… but puking words is different that being unable to control the depletion of words without form.

Piles and piles of letters spreading with the wind like a thin dust, swimming in oceans of nonsense, being breath in and out of many lungs; spreading and sickening others.

I am not one and not one is my silence, my sickness.

One would think BEING should be a kind hand at the end of such transitory misery… But it really is not.

Maybe he was right, maybe “the space where we think of each other is its own country, where things are always brightly illuminated” …but maybe he really isn’t…