I have been bewping for the past few weeks. Bewp–a nonsense word–roosted in my brain weeks ago. This simple syllable bursts out of my idle mouth and mind continuously.
Why do I say bewp?
Imagine an insufferable itch. Once you say “Bewp”, it goes away.
When Tourette’s and autism are part of your life, vocal tics can be quite jolly but not everyone else is in on the joke. And it is a joke, an “in thing,” a single word that word sets neurons afire like Shakespeare or the catchiest tune.
Think of a song, haunting you long after you heard it, and condense its melody into a word. This is also bewp to me.
Bewp pleases my mouth muscles. Which delights more, the b’s bilabial stop that feels like a kiss? The yodeling long u? Or the plosive, spitting, p? All three, please! A…
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