Linguistic sadness

“ Words are just words.”
A person I care very deeply about, and who cares for me the same, recently uttered this statement to me, in the middle of a debate, and I was so shocked I lost my track completely. He won the debate. I just sat on my butt and stared. The more the thought settled into my mind, the more horrible it became. Just words? Just words?
Words are everything that we, as a global society have chosen to use not just in what we could consider basic communication but in expression. Of ourselves, our opinions, our personalities. We create words into art, into pictures. They fuel our imaginations in countless and unlimited directions. There is no limit on the affect of words on the human race. It is intrinsic to our basic needs and desires, and is our outlet for everything we have found to contribute to our very existence.
As a writer, a poet, and an artist, words are my outlet. Not only for art and expression of my own opinion ,but the logging of my thoughts, emotions, reactions, and experiences. They are my form of a shuttle, for the lost imagination slumbering in the back of my mind, for wayward and unrecognized emotions that threaten to overtake my rationality in times of tiredness. They are my battlefield of understanding, not only of my outside connections but also the untracked trails within myself. My words create and destroy ideas, which in themselves are pictures and words that have connected of their own accord in my heart’s attempts of expression. They are the canvass in which I turn to create worlds of fantasy, stories of love and trials, hardship, struggle, and personal victory. They express every facet of my eclectic personality. Without them I would be lost.
Or really, I would be faced with a new challenge in the art of self expression. But not the point.
When did we lose our faith in words? Was it the advent of the political system? Did rulers in the old ages create the dark side of linguistic syntax or did they even care to twist words into the destruction of faith? As children we learn the meaning of combing letters and, when heard, trust them to the extent we understand. Is it as children, in the face of empty promises and the deceitful twisting and contorting of diatribe that we learn the true meaning of language? Is it then that we lose faith? Or is the faith lost not in words, but in humanity itself?
In ages of political speeches, in which we are told to blindly follow or to learn to read “between the lines” and advertising, targeted at twisting words into psychological triggers, we are constantly faced with what words can mean and have lost the sight of what words truly entail. In our educational system the emphasis is lost on thorough expression. It is instead focused on regurgitation. There is no seeking and discovering of new words like new friends. There is no art created on paper in handwriting and ink. There is no insightful innovation as words are linked with others in creative metaphors, analysis, and allusions. We have lost the alliteration, hyperbole, and simile. Most no longer know the meaning of, or recognize the presence of such techniques in writing. We are taught, shown and expected to regurgitate information. Ignorance is passed through the system with low marks and improvement is never expected. The demand for self thought and self expression lessens, and so then, does the true meaning of text. The understanding of usage is gone, the understanding of impact and affect is lost. And so then, is the joy of prose.
Words can destroy and undo greatness. They can twist and manipulate. They can force, cajole and undermine the balance of our selves. But they also create and breathe life into staleness. They fill silence and spaces of white sheets. They increase our understanding of what is sacred; sacred silence, sacred thoughts, sacred moments. They bring us joy and happiness in understanding. They hold confusion and clarity with the placement of prepositions, nouns, adverbs, verbs and adjectives. They are building blocks to great works of art and expression. They are one of the truest forms of artistic idiom. Millions to chose from, finding the perfect combination to hear the chime within your soul that tells you, “Yes, that’s exactly it.” How else to express feelings and emotion in the attempt to be understood? We crave that understanding and yet have lost the ability to achieve it as we lose definition and the joy of conceiving connection. We learn them so early for our basic desires of hunger, want, tiredness, happiness, sadness and the simple loves of our small lives. We relearn them again as our expressions consume and give birth to joy, bitterness, jealousy, obsession, love, desire and the understanding of change. There is no limit to what we can create, what we can develop and use, the countless combinations. Its defined in the definitions of space and silence, of time and stillness. Limitless in itself. Limited only by us, it’s benefactors.
What then can we do to restore this broken temple? There is no need to wait for the dust to settle to know that the walls are crumbling, the pillars who once supported this great structure have been eaten with the disgraces of time. What can we do before nothing remains and we are staring with puzzlement at the rubble of past greatness?
Three words housed within the very soul: Sincerity, Faith, Integrity.
Where can we start?
With ourselves.
And then go from there.