flâneur

i don’t think a lot of friends know me that well

oizystunmise.substack.com · 1,508 words · saved by 1 readers

we speak the same language but you still don’t understand me

There are moments, fleeting as they are revealing, when I feel, almost viscerally, the limitations of language. I see it in the way someone responds to my words, or rather, to the shadow of them they have chosen to see. They smile, nod, and say “I get it,” but something in their eyes betrays a misalignment. I walk away from the exchange more invisible than before like the interaction has peeled away a layer I barely noticed myself wearing—a coat of my own camouflage. We can speak the same language and still understand one another so little that it borders on irony, like learning the rhythms…

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