Sometimes there’s language everywhere, all around. I mean there is, it’s just that we don’t really notice it. It’s spoken, either in our conversations or in overheard conversations. We mumble to ourselves. Our stream of consciousness is an endless rush of narrative. We dream words, read words, hear words on TV, on  the radio, sung on CDs. It’s on signs and lists of ingredients. We whisper them making love or yelling oh god when we finish. Bars are full of sloshed chatter. Books are full of dense sentences. Priests paint the non existent in vivid colors, doctors utter dreadful finalities, cops utter threats. Tykes struggle with pisketti and their th’s. Commercials come at us in frantic bursts. Language is everywhere like the very air. Too much of it, really. Or maybe not enough. Whatever. I think the problem is when we see its structure. 99.9% don’t, they spare themselves linguistics or the mechanics of prose. It’s the poor suckers that go deep into it. You get lost in  there. It’s like one of those cartoons where the music comes out in big giant notes that surround Bugs and he has to fight his way around them. Think I’ll take a break from this project for a few days.