tunneling

how  am I supposed to talk about, using words, how fundamentally impossible it is to process with those who can’t use them? I am exhausted from their day nearby. how do you amuse someone who is so different? everything is in words. words are all I have. I mean I’m sitting here trying to write about it, which is preposterous. writing is words. thinking is words – at least, it is for me. the gap between us seems far greater than the gap between me and an outsider. I can’t understand them. what is the point? feh.