fridays are for partying

I stutter so much! I used to stutter as a little boy … then I gradually stopped. I was free, except for those moments of anger, when the affliction would surface in the most vicious fashion (Ryan would call it cute when we’d argue). But I never realized it, for I was much-too-consumed with my feelings of frustration. But now, I even stutter when I am not angry. A revolution indeed, full circle. I find it quite difficult to speak, though to-day I amazed myself with how much I was able to say to complete strangers. I made myself proud. But it was not without stuttering, without awkwardness. Then again, I am new to all this. “Hello, how are you doing?” (affect to drop the ‘g,’ in order to mininize the harshness).

But when I write, the words flow.

I wonder, when did I begin to make this transition? For language is meant to be spoken, not written. Writing is an aberrration, a limitation on the potential development of a language. And this is why I don’t take it seriously!


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