I think I know what I wish for my future. I'd like to learn more languages. [It seems languages are like tattoos; after the first one you're a believer, after the second one you're already an addict.] I want to get to know the languages, but never become a defined speaker of them. I don't want to work as a translator, the trainer of words and meanings. And I don't want to be a teacher either, grooving the same lessons and drills year after year. I just want to learn the languages. The constellations of potential possibilities that I'll never completely recognize, and for sure never make use of.
It's amazing, foreign languages are fairy tales that you never stop believing in. Then you finally find yourself among the people behind the words and they turn out to be exactly what you've already known in your hometown. But then you discover yet another language and you let yourself be deceived again. It seems this time these are really different stories, unknown dimensions.
Linguistic nymphomania. This one's harder, that one more sibilant. Strange reactions of your own body when you here the sounds. Daydreaming. Physical self-awareness as you carefully perceive your speech organs.
Persuading yourself that a few hundred miles away things would be completely different.
That's what I'm thinking these days when I'm lying in bed with a cold.
This, and that women are amazing. Most amazing.
[actually, some women can be amazing at times. at times, they can't. some of them never even get close to being amazing. but the outcome is still better then on the masculine side. I guess.]
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