A way with words.

I hate awkward introductions. Let's skip this part.


I have always been fascinated by words. I pick my favorite word every other week, I have flashcards with words, I think about words a lot. In my imagination words look like a patchwork bedspread - the colors look nice together and stitches are strong and secure. Patchwork was an ideal pastime for women in 19th century, such a rational thing to do, they provided warm nights during winter and were a worthy trousseau for a bride. However my words, though so cautiously taken care of and so amicably fostered are loosing their firm form when being transmitted through my mouth and are turning into a big ball of wibbly wobbly time-y wimey stuff. When I speak I can imagine a thick hank of rope, full of little knots, a kind of rope that cannot be unknotted. That way I lose my point after a few seconds (and I sound insane. Not that I'm still bothered by little things like that).


What I'm trying to get at is that words are such a powerful weapon and such a wild animal. It requires so much mastery to learn to control them and how to approach them so that they can convey what is thriving in our heads. Remember Inkheart?  Is it the outcome of human imperfection that we cannot use the tool given to us? Because this was the purpose of language - communication, wasn't it? I wish I could communicate through words, but lately I've come to a conclusion that communication through words is paradoxically the most uncommon means of it for me. Even if I'm talking to someone I doubt he can take a lot out of my words, if not for voice, gesticulation and face, he probably wouldn't get the eff of what I'm talking about.


And even if we use words intelligibly, I feel like we use them inadequately. We want to be stronger and stronger as people and that requires a lot stronger words. I'm not talking about cursing although this is a good indicator as well, but I often shiver at the easiness with which people use the phrase "I love you". Because it looses so much in its meaning. There was this scene in season one of Gossip Girl (yeah, high culture reference) where Dan wanted to tell Serena that he loved her when at the same moment she told a random passer-by who picked up her papers that she loved him for doing that. How to mean it really when we repeat these words on a daily basis?


That's why for me words became moribund, sick, obscure. Somewhat injured. I want to write them to daunt them and wake them up.


I hope this is where the words recover.




PS. Don't expect any noble artsy intentions in this blog. I only do this because everybody else does this. Seriously, I'm conformist like that.