Sitting on the train and thinking. I have so much to say.  And I want to express what I want to express the way I want to express it. I have been silent for so long that I am screaming and disintegrating inside. The center cannot hold. 

Until recently I've not spoken at all. My teachers didn't even know what my voice sounded like. Probably didn't even know I was there. I am invisible always. Outside I'm invisible because I'm overweight. Inside my classes I'm invisible because I am always silent. High school, 4 years of college and always quiet, hiding, afraid to be called upon because the blush would materialize on my face and my whole body would go into overdrive, shaking. My brain would stop functioning and coherent words would not come out. Oh God, the only thing I want is to be an academic, to be good at English, to achieve something, to have a voice, my own voice. To understand the discourse of the academia and be able to speak their language. Dense language. Beautiful dense impenetrable.

Sitting on the train and crying. Because how could one want something so much and understand that maybe one will never get it. What would be the point of one's life if one will never be able to speak the discourse of the academia. To understand literature thoroughly. To absorb it.

What if I just don't have it. What if I can only be mediocre. I don't want fame or public success. I just want to know that I'm smart and that I am in control of words. Control. To pin them down, to beat them down, to tear them apart and string them together into completeness. What is there in the world for me if I will never win this battle with words. How can I be a complete person without it.

I read Jane Austen or Winterson and think – they are in charge of the world; they are in charge of the universe because they have gained mastery over words. I don't want much from life. I will never be beautiful, coveted or famous or even coupled with someone. I am destined for the life of loneliness and mediocrity. So can't I just have this one thing from life. Is that too much? Really? Am I asking too much, am I being selfish in my wishes. Is it too much to ask for a little protection. Protection by words. Shield against invisibility, against indifference, against my weight, against my diffidence and my utter nonexistence in this world.