Communications: A Manifesto

April 10, 2011
Look at me. Reduced to passive-aggressive Facebook statuses, song lyrics, and posts on an anonymous website. All I want is to make my voice heard, but no one listens when I speak. It seems that as soon as I start talking, someone else has something extremely important to share with the world. At least when I write, I know that I can get my entire idea out before being interrupted.

That, actually, is the reason that I am so addicted to the Internet. I am easily annoyed; it’s easier to block someone on Facebook than it is to ignore them in person. Hiding emotions is simpler when typing, as well - it’s easy to add “:)” to a message on even the worst day. Truly, though, writing is so much less awkward than face-to-face or phone conversations. When writing, I do not stutter and I am never tongue-tied.

I read once that “a good writer must be an effective speaker.” This is completely wrong. In fact, the opposite is often the case: I write eloquently because I cannot speak that way, and I am sure that I am not the only one. My brain moves faster than my mouth can, but my hands can get the words out almost immediately. When writing, I do not have to worry about skipping words and forming legible sentences; I can always go back and edit once the idea is in place.

Verbal communication is difficult for me. Maybe that’s why I dislike people so much - I don’t know what to say when talking to them. Question: if we are defined by the company we keep, then who am I? Quiet, awkward, antisocial. I do not want to be known for those things, nor do I want to be known for my hatred of the world. Though this hatred may be long-lasting, it probably isn’t permanent. I want to be known for what I create.

My creations are words. Not aloud; no, I’m never smooth when creating words aloud. When speaking, it’s quite possible to be interrupted or that people will just pretend to listen. With my writing, though, I have time to refine my thoughts and get to my point in a clear, direct way… or not. And if not, I can make my ramblings at least semi-coherent and, hopefully, interesting.

This is my creation. A rant, a rambling journal entry, a cry from my soul that I WANT TO BE HEARD. That’s all. I understand that I’m just a sixteen-year-old, and I haven’t done anything noteworthy yet. I don’t expect the whole world to hang on to my every word. All I ask is to be able to speak every now and then and have someone hear me.

Or maybe not. Writing seems to do the trick just fine.

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