Do words really have any value? They don’t last. It’s too easy to redact old ones, to take something nice and turn it gross. It turns out, all those things I said with you, to you, about you, were lies. You thought I was sincere but I never meant any of it. Words can hurt. The pain is sharp but it fades as soon the new words are dismissed as easily as the old ones. Sticks and stones. Rinse and repeat. Why are we so concerned with words? What’s the point? Words don’t mean anything.
Why have I always loved words? What does that say about me? What does it mean that I get excited about people and their words? I love complexity, it lights up my mind. I get lost in the words of other people’s stories and forget about the bullshit in my story. Is it just a cheap parlor trick? Sometimes it’s hard to know what to believe. Words are cheap. Words can rip apart someone’s reality. Maybe those words are better left unsaid.