//A War on Words//
//A War on Words// relationships stories
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isolee With an impulse for the dramatic
Autoplay OFF   •   2 years ago
…Shall we launch an unholy war on language, you and I? - about miscommunicating abstractly with your ex

//A War on Words//

…Shall we launch an unholy war on language, you and I?

I have a feeling I come across as so predictable that it comes natural to you to try and predict me. What else could explain why you assume of me either deception of non-disclosure when I rebel against it?

Communication requires both a sender and a receiver, but there's no maybe here - this is on you, but-

I wish words were not so flawed. That language had evolved to communicate minds rather than opinions.

Would you understand me better if I was shouting? If my sentences were short? Maybe if I spoke in keywords tied to my affections? No? How about symbols, images; what if I carved them into skin?

If I burned them into our eyes again and again, would that make you relate to me?

I must conclude, my friend, that we are one of two things. One: incompatible, too far away in spaces unseen to even speak the same word and know what it means, or two: taught an incomplete language,

full of words that don’t relate to anything anymore, like objects in space, that we have been tricked into trying to share.

What do you think?

“What do you mean?”

We return to where we started.

Is life just a loop - is change inconceivable; or just an ideal, or conceivable but a trick – or, if all of life is a circle - something that never existed in the first place?

What do you think?

“What do you mean?”

Who knows. I just wanted to let you know that what I say, you can trust. Besides, would you not rather be fooled than mistrust? No? I can’t understand you.

Should we accept this, or fight it?

Shall we launch an unholy war on language, you and I?

Our first attack would be to destroy the word “victory”, erase it, never use it, use it wrong, describe ourselves as victors of failure, ruin its meaning,

pick the letters apart from each other with sharp edges to our tongues and fingers, separate the v from the i with screams and serrated knives, rip the c from the t with motorised hate, drown the shivering syllable left in its own mess.

Is that what we should do?

Hunt every concept with our teeth, you and I, should we refuse to acknowledge that a war on words would destroy both "us" and "we", create vacuums out of meaning and meaninglessness,

be content that no one can apply these words to us, not even we?

There would be no end to this war, and no one to remember in words who we were, only a sense of self that was you and I, I and you.

Maybe then we could understand one another. You wouldn’t mistrust me because there would be no trust. I would wage this war with a we, my dear.

What do you think?

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