Things sound better in my head

Don't ask me why I'm blogging useless dribble.


Tonight I was reading a literary work which inspires me and one which I keep referring back to in my little brain's filing cabinet of things that strike me as interesting, odd, alternative and beautiful all at the same time. I read it time to time and recite random lines to myself on some days. It's very pretty, and yet some would call it depressing. It's funny how our views of literature differ depending on the person and their life experiences.


I just got in from English class, and I got my first grade on an essay. She liked the content of both my essays, going out of her way to tell me so, in fact. It did not go unnoticed that she didn't compliment anyone else in the class. Should I be proud or sad? Well, I am a little of both, truth be told. My next assignment is to write a descriptive essay and the assignment is quite vague, but this works to my advantage this time because I am free to describe almost anything.


After sitting through a lecture on descriptive writing, I was reminded of this work that I like to read. As I drove home from the college, I began to think of my classmates and what might inspire them. Would anything move these guys? I wonder sometimes. They seem to be immovable rocks in reference to their views of literature. A genetic concoction of Gandhi, Mother Teresa and Jesus couldn't move these mindless numb skulls! I wondered if they would like the piece I was reading and if they would respond to it as I do. I somehow think that, despite its beauty, they would think nothing of my preference. After all, it doesn't have pictures, sex, interactive messaging, a link to their Facebook or even a pop-up display for all the kiddies to see. No...the writing material I am admiring tonight consists of mere words. Words. That's all.

"Oh how dull," they would think....


I wondered if a theatrical presentation would make a difference to them. What if a very influential reader were to read the story aloud? What then? Perhaps the speaker could read it with SUCH passion that the listeners would simply be enthralled by the words, thinking them as beautiful as angel's tongues straight from Heaven's halls in the clouds! Well, maybe not that  nice, but perhaps a good, strong reader could capture their attention before they revert back to texting on the phones.


As I sat here on my couch once I got home and reread the material, I once again thought it beautiful and thought of how it would sound if read aloud.

"Could I do it justice?" I wondered...


And so I tried with my two cats as my audience to read aloud this passage that I think is just so brilliant and wonderful. Some have said I have a rather striking voice, and indeed I think it can be when I put mental muscle into it in order to imprint an impression on someone when needed. If anyone can do justice to the words by speaking them aloud surely I can! I chose a random line and began to say the words, giving oratory life to them as I tried - with little success - to satisfy the beauty they so richly deserved in a strong speaker.  Alas, I failed...

The words came out of my mouth and fell right at my feet as soon as they left my lips. The words even sounded shallow after I said them. It was as if the beauty was all in my mind and my awkward voice ruined that beauty, tainting it, defiling it and gradually filling it with my own song instead of that of the angels of which this work is worthy. In other words, dear reader, I fucked it up. I didn't LIKE the way it sounded out loud, coming from me. How frustrating! Some things cannot ever be expressed I suppose...


Sorry my friend, I think Color Blind sounds so much better if I just read it silently. I wonder if there's anyone with a voice who could really read it the way it deserves to be read out loud.


It sounded so much better in my head