To name things is to name our humanity.
A name is not a label. Labels belong to objects. We are no such things.
We are others.
Naming a relationship creates rules.
Naming a breakup, it changes a bond.
Naming a sensation makes it a feeling.
Naming the act of naming as humanizing or dehumanizing shakes the world.
It makes you more careful about the names you choose.
More careful about naming yourself, too.
Names are often seen as matching people.
Summers are sweet and shinny.
Johns are just plain old Johns.
Bills are nice, and so are Anas.
Folks analyze names through numbers.
Astrologers check compatibilities.
A couple where it's two versions of the same name is seen as a sign from the universe.
A match.
Not me.
All the women I have loved, all the men, they all had very distinct names from mine. Unusual even.
Maria is the exception.
Parents choose names expecting babies.
When a name is decided upon, there's a projection on that little person.
Are names a catalogue of people?
All of the Danis are this.
All Mari, like that.
Duosyllabic names, I've heard many of them.
If such catalogue exists, I sometimes wish we could have an alert system for those that have terrible personality traits.
Stay away from Roses! They'll hurt you.
Don't elect a Donald, he's a clown.
Don't believe the new Moses!
What an amazing thing it would be.
Yet it wouldn't.
One must get to know others.
One must name them.
It seems my list still stands.
I've named what I needed.
Naming me, naming her, naming the world.
It's fresh.
