Words, today has been a day of many words, which means I am the progeny of either Jean Paul Sartre or FR David; neither a prospect to warm the heart, frankly. The thing about this day of many words is that very few of them have been mine, I have been listening to, typing up, staring at, pouring over, correcting grammar (oh yes, me) of the words said, written, posted, composed and arranged by lots of other people.

Some words said in argument, some in agreement, some in haste and some in repentance; words fired off so quickly they leave scars. The suture work needed after some lacerations takes years to bed in and make good, if ever they can, and there is always the suspicion of a fatally weakened seam. Some words said in self-justification are thin and unconvincing, others coat their own truth with a venom aimed at others. Words can affect such grace and dignity.

Both the sharpest and bluntest tools in the box, they can wreck and slice.

…and sometimes an arrangement of words so utterly unexpected they stop you dead.


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