I have been looking through a lot of my old notes on my phone and thinking bad back at the moment when I wrote each one. I’ve been thinking about the difference in how they sound depending on whether I was moving or sitting down well I wrote it. I remember walking through the park well quick in one into my phone. I remember one was typed on my computer after having touched something sticky like honey or glue or something that I couldn’t get off my fingers. That’s on Seshan returns. Many of my notes have voice recognition mistakes because I wanted to quickly speak something in before forgetting it. I knew kind of Scrabble. It’s not difficult to recognise these approvals. They stick out a lot because they’re very fluent Don’t have a single spelling mistake, but then suddenly there is a word that makes absolutely no sense in the sentence, like gerbils scenario in a note where I am trying to say something about the President of Brazil. Setting aside for a moment the politics of the fact that my phone has no problems spelling of the names of contemporary western leaders, I’m struck by by have these are euphonic detours take on my vocal chords.
I say the words out loud again and the situation returns in a way that takes my attention away from what I intended to communicate to my future self. A bit like the sticky fingers, but the stickiness is more like an aside or an obstruction to the intention. The new words in my throat arrestee attention for a moment suspends it lets vibrate amongst countless other meanings and intentions and let it go again. But before letting me back to my past train of thought I am myself also suspended in an economic memory that feedback with the physical sensation that it is to make that sound. A bus wizards across my bedsheets and let off that loud hissing sound of decompressing earth that I have always wondered if they are set off intentionally by bus drivers to scare people. A small flock of pigeons rise up in front of me and struggle against the wind that’s not blowing. Everything falls from nowhere into a cup of soft feathers. I see myself throw myself backwards onto my bed and I’m still in front of my computer, and done.
You know how there are certain words that you avoid saying because you don’t like the way they sound, like error, and other words you don’t write because they are difficult to spell or maybe they look weird or remind you of something that doesn’t fit in the sentence, like the word thorough which reminds me of Aladdin when I see it written? Those words create new ways of thinking about things; new password meaning and intention. But they are usually very personal and idiosyncratic. I’m trying to imagine what it means for the reply as of the world to be tied to this common strangeness of writing with the voice. Add new pads.
Or go back to where things make more sense?