Somebody set me off thinking. By uttering the words : Silence is consent… Although meant jokingly, because he is overall a nice person, it still set me off into a thinking about what I experience multiple times a day.
Once in a while and for certain people it can be the same people that very often interpret my silence as me giving consent.
They rarely wonder if I am really consenting to something let alone what I am consenting too.
In interaction with others I can get really overwhelmed. Sometimes by their smell, sometimes by the way they gesticulate. But mostly by their words. Their words can make a world appear that does not seem to be the same world I live in.
Words evoke images , sounds, colours, tastes even. Words can literally grip me and suffocated me or make me nauseous. Sometimes I can get infatuated by the sheer beauty of one of their spoken words. Because the way it sounds or the inner vision it creates.
Sometimes words uttered are so vague that it takes me a while to figure out what the other exactly means. Not only semantically but I have to get through the sensory effect scattered through my brain first.
Then I need to go through the vast amount of colourful lucid greyness in order to be able to see their word.
Meanwhile the world itself produces all sorts of sounds, smells and movements. Words do not come alone. They come in strings, words stitched to one another by their perlocutionary meaning, interrupted by either meaningful or meaningless ‘ay’s’ or ‘ooo’s’ or silences.
So I have to take the ‘word-embroidery’ of the other into account as well.
No wonder I go silent. But where in this story did you read that I have given any consent ?
Thanks to @philmageo for setting me of thinking
Original picture ‘Going Through all these Books’ by timtom – adapted by @lampadedromy