Me
Posted by Sabina Berman, August 14, 2012 2:05 pm
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Filed under: Original Essays.
I live outside the bubble of language. Me, that's my name. Like you, I was born outside the bubble of language, but Me, I never forget it. That's probably because I spent so many years outside it, without speaking like a standard human. I was born in a cellar with one open wall facing the Gulf of Mexico. Until I was 12 years old, mostly what I did was dive into the turquoise blue water and swim around the red and black coral and watch sea horses sleep on their tails. My only friends back then were tuna. The aquatic animals, I mean, not cans of. They'd come to my little section of sea to swim, to nibble at the coral, to gobble up a few silvery sardines, and to nudge me with their heads — and for me to nudge them with my head.
I'm going to have a glass of water; I'll be right back.
I was saying that I didn't learn to use words until I was 12, and that's why now, at 42, I prefer scuba diving to spending time with standard humans. I watch them ...
