nothingface the place that some words and phrases are better left 001214
silentbob nothingface
that is my cousin's favorite band
unhinged i was looking at him like i always do in a crowded room and he made the slightest of head nods in my direction as if to stay "stay away"

and i did
unhinged say 010104
kx21 The Magic of Nature:

Spoken yet unspoken.
And unspoken yet spoken.
phil Could have been spoken 010704
Liz the sadness in fear
some words I can't hear
the truth you are saying
for the silence I'm praying

the glimpse of light
swallowed up by the night
to steal away breath
that leads me to death

the accompany of pain
the face that tears stain
my eyes kept wide open
the words left unspoken

the withdrawn creature
there's no way to teach her
you can't make her fly
cuz she has no answer, no reason why...
devalis the words that you most often regret 020821
Death of a Rose shivers with unspoken delight 031018
SoulessWanderer We both know I lied. I looked you in the face, and repeated the concoction that I've told all my life. I'm normal, I'm fine, I can feel. I miss you, I love you, you're my best friend. I'll tell you what you want to know, and we both pretend it doesn't matter that they're lies. We smile, and accept it as the only truth we'll ever have. "You'd tell me, right?" "Of course." And we leave it. But all the while, unspoken thoughts visit both of us. We know it'll never be the same, yet we'll pretend it is. 040207
Death of a Rose some things should be best left.....

z verboten 050502
Lemon_Soda Everything you leave unspoken will haunt you. 050502
z i used to believe that, and still do at times. i do see value, however, in being circumspect about some things. it is always a matter of context. 050502
emmi it is always a dangerous thing to rely on. 050731
z some regions seem to rely more on the unspoken more than others. being from the noth east, i am always blind sided by the complex rules by which people don't speak in the south. i think one might have to be born into the culture to understand the boundaries. to make matters worse, the very existence of the unspoken is verboten. i am glad i am not constrained in that way. it seems excruciating. the strangest thing is that i sense that some take comfort in it. then again, the same people might consider it normal to drop by for a visit unannounced. that is something that is not done around here. it only serves to remind me to remain humble. 051121
Piso Mojado do you mind expounding on this a bit more? (i lived on the east coast for a bit and want to understand what you mean) 051121
unhinged john_and_i

too much left unspoken
makes it too easy
to deny
zeke imagine that a conversation is a tall topiary maze. it is vast in potential area covered but relatively narrow. you can't see over the top of it's hedges. you want to get across it's short dimension to an exit on the other side which is the point you wish to make.

in the north, we would look for thin spots in the hedge or use shears to make a direct path. by doing so, we leave the traditional path in favor of getting quickly to the exit. that is the point of the communication as we see it. by passing through the maze as the crow flies, we often stumble into glades, hollows or little corners that have no entrance from the beaten track. in those unvisited spaces there might be the tombs, statues to forgotten gods, illicit meeting places or an unexamined crime scene. disturbing such places might be uncomfortable.

or it could be as simple as pace. perhaps people who frequent the maze enjoy the windings of the myriad paths. perhaps it is a storytelling culture, reveling in the journey, loving the comfort that the familiar brings.

i often feel that a meta communication is taking place. some kind of reinforcement of class? a transmission of social cues that have to do with the role of the individual in community?

i only know that i am witnessing something that is so obvious to the participants that they are scarcely aware of it, and that i have to strain to even glimpse it. yet, it seems to be more important to the transaction than the actual conversation. it seems to be somehow creating or maintaining the fabric of their society.

then again i could be making much out of nothing. in the end i decide, again, that one must be born into that fabric in order to comprehend it. and then it is like breathing.
zeke also, different entrances to the maze sometimes lead to separate tracks. they often wind through one another, sometimes running parallel for a bit, but might not cross. they might have small windows cut between them, through which might be seen the hem of a passing garment, an elbow or face go by. people entering from separate entrances might never be aware of each other even while passing within a foot or two. 051122
string blathermaze_entrance 061130
Wasandru Zeke, that is a FANTASTIC analogy! FANTASTIC! 061130
Ubiquitous Flattery Way to go, everyone! 061130
megan what happened to that guy that used to be so crazy about me
that used to surprise me all the time
that couldn't wait to talk to me

i cant stop crying. do i not make you happy anymore? does it matter to you that i'm tired all the time? that i worry about everything about you all the time? yeah, you say you didnt ask me to... i wish you'd appreciate me

more than that
i wish you'd love me.
i wish you wouldn't cut me off when you've had enough and i want more.
i wish you wouldn't treat me like i'm never allowed to be upset with you, and that it's always my fault.

where did you go
and how can you just sleep like nothing is wrong?
does my crying constitute nothing wrong?
somebody . 061201
() () 061202
unhinged cause sometimes the shit that falls out of your mouth makes you sound so fucking stupid

you wouldn't get it even if i told you. cold, calculating, rational. people like you never get me.

the best things in my life have always come from my heart, not my head. but mostly, i can't share my heart anymore. just blue words on a blue screen, talking to myself at home when no one else is around.

i miss having wordless_conversations that actually meant something. i miss real hugs.
what's it to you?
who go