and she said.. "how you interpret the dream is probably more important than the dream itself"

language, certainly, is an interesting beast. it's got a certain fluidity about it that makes it bendable, malleable, twistable, shape-able. it's like homemade playdoh. you can make it any shade you want; just add food-colouring and stir; just bleed into the bowl and baste with beet juice; blend with berries; burn; brown over with powdered chocolate; orange.. carrot juice, surely?

see, this is not something those math tarts can get at because there is a certain set of rules - there are rules, walter - there is a certain foundation or framework on which all is built. 1 + 1 = 2, 2 + 2 = 4 (unless it equals 5), 4⁴ = 256, and so on and so forth. sure it's got its vagaries like imaginary numbers (you know, i² = -1) and rings, and even rngs (you know, rings with no identity) but these are the gaseous particles of a solid theory. math has a certainty concreteness to it, no matter what your local quantum queer has to say about it.

language is, by it's very nature, vague; it can be represented incorrectly with grammatical mistakes - misspelings, not even no double-negatives are possible and irregardless of these whimsical wispy what-the-hells-are-you-talkings-abouts it is still somehow understandable, graspable, accessible in some form or fashion, to even the most elementary absorber of the written or spoken word.

is this the attraction? the option, nay, the ability - the choice - to write badly and still be misunderstood? is this what makes me come back over and over and over once more to type - tap - out the feelings and thoughts and ideas that tumble around in this bingo-ball randomizer of a head - brain - mind? is it knowing that i can speak freely with my fingers at the blank screen without recourse, tapping - typing - out the things that need to wiggle free and would at the most inopportune times (no doubt, to much embarrassment, hurt feelings, and on occasion perhaps physical altercations) if not for the opening of the faucet here on a regular basis?

yes, maybe, each point has it's truth but it's still not whole - the truth is there is that extra part; the abstract imaginary number part that needs to be put down on paper - screen - to call attention to it's imagination, to point out it's in-existence. that through this exercise the fake may become fully formed, the formed broken into many questions, the questions layed out like little complex parts (i, i, i, i) and then those parts may be thrown together, previously unfettered, to make ideas (for language, complex as it is, nevertheless represents the fiercely formal existence of thoughts - those abstract pieces that until uttered do not truly exist)

if a man thinks a thought which goes unheard
if he thoughtfully pauses but does not put to word
has that thought he did think been officially thunk
or is it just the source of a temporary funk?

ideas, i said, ideas.. i*i*i*i and *poof*, we've said it, it equaled some thoughts, or a few notions, now -1 * -1, or a positive one; an idea brought into existence, placed down in concrete words which - while possibly misunderstood - are nonetheless observed and available for further parousal; perhaps the source of later pontification. in short, it's additive, this language of ours. i can't help but scribble down what i think on the off chance a person might find it funny, humourous, or useful. not that the words on this page are me, but it's like a bad copy with smudging and fading, a facsimile of something that could be me. so sure, nothing guarantees the existence of this later on, no more than i know when i will be gone, but for one thing is sure i know that 1 + 1 = 2 and 2, they tell me, is better than 1.