I have a flurry of words in my head.
I have a flurry of words on my lips.
I want to talk. I have things to say. I have questions to ask. I have answers to give.
I want to say my name, I want to say that everything is fine, I want to say that everything is bad. I want to explain.
But nothing.
The flurry of words stay in my head.
The flurry of words stay on my lips.
Because you don’t understand them. I can let the words out. But you don’t understand them. I can whisper the words or shout them out loud. You don’t understand them.
You hear noise. Like a silence. There is no meaning.
I want to shout. I want you to hear me, I want you to understand me.
I have a flurry of words in my head.
I have a flurry of words on my lips.
So I shout, I laugh, I talk and talk and talk. Without stopping.
You think I’m crazy.
But I am not crazy. The words have to come out. They are trapped inside my head like in a cage. So I set them free. They come out through my mouth. They rush out. I talk and talk and talk.
Listen to what I say. Learn my language.
Don’t think that your language is the only one that exists. Mine also exists.
I exist.
Text written by Héloïse
Translated by Hélène
Illustrated by Lucile
Vous can read a version of this text in French, in Dari, in Arab and in Turkish.
An audio version will soon be available.
You could print the book (A4, recto, b&w – be careful with the prints margins)