Wordplay.

“Batid ko ang mga salita bago mo pa man ito ihayag. Saklaw ko ang damdaming nais mong usalin, ang mga bagay na nais mong iparating. Sa bawat salita, hawiin mo ang damdaming nanabik.”

Word churns around my head. They call upon me to make use of them and to make sense of them. Alone they can never stand. But when each word in isolation is brought to fuse creatively with another, they convey a new thought, perhaps more particular and interesting idea.

But words dither. Or is it the Languid who dawdles? It is the Incandescence that resolves for the manipulation of words, for the captivation of language into a realm comprehensible to the human intellect. Then the words suddenly make sense. They signify more than what they are supposed to simply mean. But where do they start? Isn’t it that words are scratched from ideas, and ideas evolve from words?

It is the Languid that decides for the destiny of the ideas into words structured in a simple or complex concoction and contained in a concrete form. In moments of lethargy, and perhaps under-inspiration, the Languid falters. Sadly, what could have been an interesting offshoot of a captured moment in words are left in an eternal space left for the usurpation of the blackhole.