Intentionally dry

In every language written, there are bad spells that put a harness on the receiver. I think about the stubborn Announcing that says: this is sad (be sad); this is funny (laugh); this is profound (oh, wow). This is beautiful (is it?). It’s telling me what to feel, and when, instead of letting me react my way.

Announcing gives me an image in a cage, a joint deal: I can take it only with its frame. Why? — as if the author wouldn’t trust my judgement. Or couldn’t let go of control.

The big sister of Announcing — Description — also loves to keep me at bay. So I will let her starve.

No time to rest. Two other bad spells follow closely — their names: Softening and Decoration. Their aim: to dissolve. Words only for words. Their idol: emptiness adorned with flowers. Protecting the weak.

I don’t like to feel under a bad spell. I don’t like bouquets because they die. And so, following the simple: “do not do to others what you don’t want done to you”, I protect my speech from the rich. I keep my language safe in the desert. Where the climate is:

Dry — brutal short, almost a technical observation.
Dry — refuses charm. It’s funny only while it stays blunt.
Dry — feeds on the practical, thrives on the raw.

All dry and growing. Al-ḥamdulillāh. Amen. Restrained for bigger freedom of feeling and thought. My speech likes the space. Likes it arid. So that what blooms moves with the wind. I do my job. I trust it. And I trust the receivers.