I Never Liked the Sound
By: Patrick M. Ohana
Tags: Prose, C, Words, Poetry, Sounds

I Never Liked the Sound

Of this word

Photo by Abigail Lynn on Unsplash

I think that I became a feminist during my first or second year of university, and in my case, in Montreal, a French university where I also later received my English degree a while ago now (I didn’t complete a final part of the MA), but I wouldn’t say that those were the days.

Every decade has its good days. Of course, some decades are much worse than others. I guess that I can be considered lucky in that respect, but, trust me, I’m not. I still agree that the 40s were the worst followed by the 30s all the way back to anywhere else in time.

Then I think about our current situation and perceive that we’re still far from those bad days, and on top of it, we’re so many more numerous. There were only three (3) billion people on Earth in 1960. We’ve now surpassed 7.8 billion brains with needs. Special needs. The Needs! It won’t work. It’s simple math plus some interesting words.

Perhaps if it had the s sound like sunt instead of the hard c, I wouldn’t have minded this word. But I just can’t stand the sound of it. But I’m only reading it and maybe hearing it in a movie or some other sound venue. Oh, but I read aloud to hear the sounds. It’s the only way to really appreciate a piece of poetry and even prose. I’ve read short stories where each paragraph was a rhyming poem. Sound is almost as important as the word. It opens a new world of meaning. A similar world to the one we may have had as kids. Sound defines the word’s character, its intention, but not always, I’m afraid, like most human-related things.

People keep using it. That’s OK. Many worse things are happening and we seem to be OK with them as well. We’re struggling. We’re losing our minds. At least we’re not losing our souls. Well, not yet. At least we persevere wisely while making the right changes to improve all things, and not only those touching the privileged fortress. It’s getting too political. Well, that’s another word that I hate. I wish they’d erase it at least for 2020, using stupid, instead, or dumb-like-fuck.

Jesus Christ! What are they thinking? We’re not freaking immortal. And we suffer like hell before the so-called Hell that awaits us. It could never be worse than this one. This one is real. Right now! Fuck the other one! Like all stupid things! Wake up, people! Jesus isn’t happy with us. Methinks He’s starting to not care about us imbeciles. I wouldn’t and I’m one as well. Come on! Raise to the occasion and write a dirty ditty! I’ve already written mine. But that’s not the point, of course. Still, I dare you to write one. Make it dirty and witty! Those are usually the most appreciated for their penetrating quality and positive outlook.

So, big deal, I don’t like the word. But here’s an interesting thing. My mouth, thus my brain, won’t allow itself to pronounce it. This word won’t come out of my mouth. So, when I read it aloud, I skip it and it ruins all that part’s sound. It’s just an awful mess. That’s why I love mouths. A mouth can say a lot about a woman. I don’t care about men’s mouths whomever they are or were. My muse has such a mouth. Here she comes again. I should have expected her. She’s still partly my muse. The love flow between us has not been severed yet. There is much love flowing there and at times it may flare up like the Fourth of July, Canada Day in my case, and so and so for many other cases. Words can be exhausting. There are exceptions, of course. Pussy is the best example. I would die for this word. I want it carved on my grave, and I don’t care about the other stupid connotation. I reject it for too many reasons to go into here though I may have mentioned something about it in passing. I think I did.

It seems that this path is approaching a final patch of words with love, so much love that I’ll still replace what was supposed to be here with a haiku.