Connect
Oh, I just wish that we could connect.
Like Spock and the Vulcan mind meld.
So you could understand, so you could feel the way I feel and know…just, know.
So you could experience all that I’ve experienced without actually having it be a part of yourself.
There would be no pathetic, inadequate attempts at explaining myself.
Because it’s nothing like I tell you it is, it’s so much more.
And it’s especially nothing like you comprehend it to be.
Meaning gets lost in translation.
My mind, to words, to your mind, to different words within your mind.
It’s simplified and oversimplified and “synonymed” and compared to and tainted and destroyed.
You think you understand, you think you know. You think you know what it feels like.
And you don’t. You really really don’t. You can’t.
meaning does get lost in translation. so many, many times.
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no freaking kidding.
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when i got to talk to you in person. i figured there’s way too much to say, and it shouldn’t be done over the computer or phone.
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