lost in translation

I want to know why my words do not represent my thoughts and how
to fix it. It happened twice today. The semi-truck carrying my thoughts from brain to mouth went off track and a completely different cargo was delivered to my mouth. The incredibly frustrating part is that I am the driver and the answer must be on my emotional map. Taking emotional rest-stops to better plan routes of communication may assure arrival at a more secure emotional destination. we will see? where is an emotional rand-mcnally,
when you one?

emotional mansion

I live in an apartment that precious would turn down. My New York friends ask me if my complex is like "melrose place" or "Beverly Hills 90210", my come back is that it is more like Beverly Hills
902oh no!

My hovel will never be featured in Esprit Decor. The feature for
me is that it is one of the few places where I will not be the recipient of yelling. No walking on egg shells, no being told I am
uguly and no being told I will not succeed, sounds like a mansion
to me.

memory fragments

The moment I step off stage, my memory becomes as vacant as a parcel of unused farmland. Gratefulness washes over me. The lack of memory enables a fresh start with each handling of the mic. Certain words will pop into my head with the distance of time. Story lines begin to develop like film in solution, fuzzy and dull to sharper and embarrassing. I begin to call audience members with words that
transmit into my cognitive being. My friends affirm my specific
word pictures. Grappling for my lighter, I plead "did anyone laugh"? the witness answers with " you got a chuckle" Geeze Louise!
why can't I go back to being grateful and vacant?

lighting in the bottle

Doing something, we have all done hundreds of times, going to the movies with a friend. Well, during this particular social ritual, my friend hated how I reacted to his story which resulted in dueling silences.

I do not know why, the indoctrination of marlo thomas's recording "Free to be You and Me" or fearing a buttery chemical
explosion, I turned to him and said "I accept you". He responded
with a biting "lucky me". The shock of the response sprung tears from my eyes.

Surrounded by rows of cinema seats, words sprung from my mouth just as the tears sprung from my eyes. "True acceptance is like lightning in a bottle, it is not a casual thing". He patted my arm and said "I know, and I accept you too". The theater lights darkened and flick's title displayed on the screen. He whispered in my ear "how long does this acceptance thing last? because I have a
6am work-out".

charming

I greeted the open mic MC in the lobby, after my performance, with " Was it a disaster"? He turned to me and said " your charm
saved it". Did he just say I was charming? Gee Whiz!

bounderies

I informed my friend that I was reassigning my concentration from his project to my project and he accepted my declaration. So boundaries start with a statement? huh? Boundaries become simpler to maintain when you surround yourself with people that respect your words. A discovery that was life changing! (for me)

arbitrary

Being told I was beautiful and ugly at the same party perfectly taught me how arbitrary words can be. Words are frequently more
about the speaker then the listener.

The experience refined my focus on the words of my inner voice because the less arbitrary my inner-words become, the more the outer-words will become white noise.