30/05/2015

Words.

I think a lot about words. On the surface, they're fantastic aren't they? I mean, they're what allows us to have such rich and intelligent thoughts, what enables our conversations. So why does silence speak so loudly? And further, why can't words quite manage to capture how deeply, broadly and vastly I feel? Why is a lack of words exchanged sometimes seen as frosty and awkward but other times an instance of complete and utter warmth and meaning? Perhaps words are more complicated than once thought. I think about these things a lot. You know, through the words that circle through my own head, without even being spoken.

Words are a funny old thing you see because we are both completely dependant on them but also undeniably restricted by their presence. Take love for example. Deep one I know, but bear with me. For a pair to know for sure that they are in mutual agreement of their affection they must utter those 3 words that confirm their feelings, right? We all know that. But these words that so many long to say/hear/mean, I love you, are simply a physical, or material if you will, representation of a limitless emotion. By saying them, one restricts the most immeasurably large swell of feelings into three short syllables. Is this not a huge injustice to its magnitude? It's so easy to say, to let those small words slip out of ones mouth, and yet behind them should be such enormous meaning. What I'm trying to say is, words, like many of us, can't deal with emotions very well. If anything, they hamper them.

Words can be misused, they can be misunderstood, misinterpreted, misspelt. They can be fired across a room or sent across the world. They can hold many meanings, or none at all (blah blah blah). Words are interchangeable throughout countries and languages. Some words are fucking forbidden, others are encouraged, thank you very much. A collection of words could make you laugh, knock knock... A collection of words could make you cry... its the police, someone you love has been involved in an accident. 

I don't really know what I'm trying to say with all of this, or what I think should be the take-away of this reading. To be honest, I'm sure you don't need to be told, but this is all just nonsense on a page. After all, this post is just a combination of 26 letters scrambled into 'words', it may have been written by me, but it can be interpreted only by you.

Anna C.