tHe boOk of dEfiNitiOns

If you analyze anything, you destroy it.
Arthur Miller

dear jess,

Some may say that the hardest part about being a human is having emotions. I say the hardest part about being human is explaining, defining, knowing.. We need a name for everything. Acacia, African daisies, internalization, diaphragm, schizophrenia, three different meaning to thongs/tongs, two different ways to say tomatoes; even the little lane in the plane is called a galley.

Even we have names. Those we keep, those we change, those we think sounds nicer, make us look better and those seven different letters that define who we are and the little label tied to our toes at death..

Then there’s the nameless. The undefined.

There are days when you cry bucket loads and don’t even know why. Was it anger? Was it the fact that you feel unloved? Was it self pity?

You think that if you knew, if you just could explain, name the emotion, trace the reason then you will stop feeling this way.

Then you, me, those that are always named, find ourselves grasping hopelessly for an explanation that fits all those terms defined; anger, pms, fear, self pity, pain..

Must all tears shed be reasoned and if they weren’t would they be justified or just written off as being too feminine.

The undefined and the unknown perhaps scares us and that’s why we have a reason, an explanation, a name for everything. Once we name something, we own it. Once we own it, we control it. Once we control something, we are lured into the fallacy that it can’t harm us anymore.

I cry and I don’t know why. There shouldn’t be any fear in admitting that.

the one they call,
jess