Latin is dead, thankfully.

I don’t mean to presume these habits are universal to writers. But I suspect some may be.

My Favorite

Let’s say you’re writing a paragraph. Doesn’t take long to produce. Why? The words breathe. All you need is a pen and paper to transcribe the breath strokes. Editing? Barely existent. Satisfaction guaranteed.

My Least Favorite

The two sentences above the paragraph are ferocious. However much you try to write those two sentences frustration increases until it hurts. This is a distraction. You realize you are disadvantaged. You do not possess the strength or stamina of the mule. Defeated, you must loosen your grip and go back to the source — the two sentences — and start all over. But how do you grasp words to make a concise and elegant sentence among the chaos?

Nothing is as chaotic as the sentence structure of Latin. Where is the beginning of the sentence? At the end of the sentence. And the subject of the sentence? At the end of the sentence. This is a distraction.

Once no longer distracted, you notice the oldest languages of the world ahead prepared for war — even the grunts of Neanderthals. You can safely identify this as the period of torment. But you keep fighting the war of resilience until you pass out.

The Clinic treats casualties of words (COW) and restores the balance of the mind. Once freed from being hijacked by words, sentences, and with your tank filled with premium fuel, you indulge yourself, burn rubber, and head your destination.