foreign sounds

it is...
hmm.
i love.
words.
putting them together, rearranging them.
giving them away.
maybe someday these little combination of letters will effect someone.
move them to change.
move them to hope.

that's why it is...
frustrating.
when i am trying to listen.
because that's one of my favorite things to do, too.
listen.
truly and really listen.
to all the words spoken and all the words not.
paying close attention to the timber in one's voice.
feel their sentiment rattle around me a bit as if i visited the pit of their stomach.
and, like a trampoline of emotion, was burst up to their heart and got to see the inner workings of all their valves and the exact dosage of love they needed in order to keep going. exist.
that's how i like to listen.
i like to take a stroll in their brain, see all the things that make them tick, the very moment something happens and it tells their face, it's time to smile. or cry.
i love that stroll so much, i stick around to see those emotional triggers-- change.
like when a person overcomes those re stimulants, and new things make them smile. or those bad memories... they seize to hurt.
yeah, i love to listen.

which is why, i am frustrated.
i wish i could speak all the languages of the world.
then maybe i could hear you that much better.
or maybe...
i just want to be heard that much more.
that thoroughly.