There is comfort in repetition.
Imagine telling a story with just one word, repeated many times. You could shout the word. Maybe the word needs to be whispered. It could be a language you don't really know. With your last breath. In pain or in joy. One word can be very expressive. The nature of repetition is primal. A heartbeat. A rhythm. Repetition is a sneaky way to access my emotions. An intimate way to engage in dialogue with my surroundings. The process of repetition is integral, the slowness is part of the story. The failure of the process is as much part of the story as its success. I limit myself in my expression to become more articulate.