November 18, 1998
Laryngitis
I am currently unable to speak. Well, I can, but it's very hoarse and not at all condoned by the medical community. It's just some bug I've picked up. Now, being unable to talk with words is quite a hassle, but to be totally honest, I would not mind if for some reason I would ever go permanently mute.
It's hard to explain, but my thoughts are different. By knowing that I can't utter any sounds except some bestial grunts, it's no longer like there's a voice in my head. Instead, thoughts and ideas appear out of some astral plane in my mind. They just bounce around in there.
There's also an element of courage in it. My only method of communication now is the notebook I lug around, so all I can do is write my opinions. But if you look at the quote from Nabokov below, my only problem is speaking like a child. Writing is a skill for me rather refined. I don't hesitate when I write, and I'm willing to take action more readily.
I like being silent in this noisy world. Maybe something will come out of it.
"I think like a genius, I write like a distinguished author, and I speak like a child."
-- Vladimir Nabokov