words

i find myself and there i am listening to their voices on the radio-- i've turned it on for music but get impatient at the repetitive american pop and have an immediate response turn the dial at commercials... i listen to their words, the sounds, making out occasionally what i can but content to leave the rest be-- dancing, slowly, differently to my ears, my subconsciousness as i write, read, clean, eat.
what is it about unintelligable sounds tha makes me feel so content. their voices relax me. i do not long for the English of home, preferring, rather, to live this life undistracted by streettalk, ignorant of what is being said to me. there is some sort of comfort in this: the withdrawing and self-sufficiency. using words meditatively and sparingly, apologetically. their sounds flood my consciousness but i am refuge in silence.
compulsory words, excuse me, no thank you, are from habit engrained in hungarian. i love being a stranger to words. giving off that one-dimensionality, that aura of ditziness, stupidness, simplicity so often bestow on non-English speakers at home.
i indulge.