it's the truth (if you think it is)
truth — it’s something i’m constantly seeking.
to me, words are one of the few things that possess some absolute quality of truth. not spoken words, but written words. that probably explains why i’m such a collector of words — i have notebooks upon notebooks full of quotes, thoughts, random words that i don’t want to forget.
when i communicate with others, i prefer to do it in two ways — face-to-face or in writing. of those two, there’s something magical about a written exchange. i love reading and re-reading the words of others. i love the text itself, the letters, whether handwritten or in type. i find beauty in the absoluteness of words — they exist independently, and are not qualified or limited by anything. words are pure and unconditional.
think about it: i can write you a lie, but the words will be true.
ask me to recall a conversation, and you get my truth, my impression, which has been filtered through my experience and my lenses of reality. my version of the exchange might be nothing more than a pale and lifeless rendering of the teller’s original story, long since dissolved into the ether. but with written words, there is a promise of permanence, that in two months, two years, two decades, the words will remain the same. sure, the context in which they are read may change, but the words themselves are no different. the words are safe and untouched — almost like the faces in a photograph.
and it’s there, in that promise, that i find both beauty and truth.
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