The English language exists to serve me
in my needs of and capacity for communication.
I will break, mold, and flex it over backwards; serve it on a platter for lunch and post it captionless on IG. Some will look, “Eugh, what kind of lunch is that?” But they will recognize what I offer as lunch, and that is enough for those separated by the screen. The people that get it were sat ‘round the actual table. If the grammar falls flat, a plural out of place, the syntax asymmetric… I like it like that.
Somebody someonce started the saying, “Can’t break the rules until you know them.” My high school diploma claims I’m an expert, so let the breaking begin—or continue.
If I want to use the word some like another use others, as a noun, so be it. If Webster claims the verb I want is a noun, prepare to be wrong. Words, do what I want!!
Veruca Salt edit courtesy of SoundCloud album cover, song title “I Want It Now”
The Sound
I am obsessed with the visual satisfaction my word structures give me, first and foremost. Then, the sound. Then, the feel. And then, the meaning—“But, Olivia, a word is its meaning.” NO, a word is it’s PURPOSE: to serve me. If I desire a sprig to sprig instead of be a sprig, then it will. And if the reader understands what to sprig means as a verb because they have known the noun, then the words are serving well.
I have freed myself from the restraints of Webster Dictionary and have offered the world, instead, an Olivia Encyclopedia. I find this much more exciting, as a writer.
At this stage, if there is more rhyme than reason to my writing, I am satisfied. I am gaining the exploratory experience to advance my art with more clarity and consistency, until even these haphazard paint splatters can be codified by purpose.
A sprightly and bushy green tree changes colors. Its tallest leaves are shot through vertically with a skunk stripe of autumn red. The tree, grown from a strip of dim grass, divides the flat well-maintained plainness of suburban street and sidewalk.