‘Do I know you’ vs ‘You must know me’

Early writing is a lot of low-judgement nonsensical wordplay. It should be fun

When you are an author, you must re-introduce yourself to your language. Almost ironically, words no longer belong to you. The former meanings of your words leave, and it is like being in a parent’s care, no longer a small child, old enough with faculties to be re-introduced to one dear relative who insists they know you after receiving the perfunctory cheek kiss prescribed at the age of one.

Mother reminds you of your manners and the memory left unformed from so long ago---

Some words are sweet jovial things. Young pretty girls ready to submit or serve and jump right on into the back of a car.

Others, are spry, chimney-tongued men. They are thin with coals for tumtums and ashes for brains. Brashly, they declare, “You must know me,” which requires the quick and literally translated reply of, “Oh, yes I do. I remember our youth under the pecan tree, trying to gobble up the bounty before all the nuts could even commit to their fall.”

Guess whose hairline and forehead this is. It’s so distinct to me; I bet you know.