If you’ve got 6 and a half minutes to spare and haven’t so far listened to the word love repeated over and over by a crowd of people for half of that time – this weird experience is waiting for you here.
I’d like to be there with those people, but watching them on youtube is fun, too. I love this song, and I love Ben Howard’s voice, and the jacket or whatever it is he’s wearing here is also kind of cool.
But I meant to write about something else, something which is also weird, and which is also love.
I love words. Not all words, and not always. I simply fall for certain words that people let out in certain particular orders, and on the sole basis of their beauty I obsess.
I may be listening to someone speaking to me, or speaking to someone else, or delivering a lecture, or fucking yelling at a fellow driver on a crossroads and suddenly get intrigued by a word this someone’s just used —
and start thinking, wondering, considering, getting impressed (like I do when someone uses the pluperfect form in Polish) or itchy (like I do when I don’t know the meaning), and putting it down in my memory as if something happened.
Or I may be reading a book — it happens with books mostly — and come upon an order of words that I can’t resist. And I read it for the second and third, and fifteenth time, and soon I have it stolen and secreted in a notebook, or a Word file. As if I found something worthy of theft.
I write as if, but I really have no doubt that words are worthy of that, and that something actually happens when someone uses a word that I can’t let by.
So what happens, exactly? Nothing much, I probably just get more weird.
With love to all of those who also love words,