Language is a joy. Language is a tool by which people are enlightened and grow in wisdom.
Of course, language can be a dark vehicle. Downfalls are brought about by words and ideas. Yet one is also formed and shaped by words and ideas.
I don’t care how economically viable stock words and phrases are. I wouldn’t trade sensitivity for the world.
Words are a magical thing. Something powerful. Or maybe just something that could help someone understand something a little better.
I like tinkering with language because there is delight to be found in novel language structures and creative writing. Or because it can present a universal experience in beautiful ways. People bond over manifestations of empathy and understanding. People can relate, they can smile, laugh and cry together over what is shared, treasured and hated.
On a side note: When reading fiction, however, I’m impatient with long, flowery descriptions. I don’t like gratuitous details to evoke mood and atmosphere. I only want to know the characters; what they say and do, what they feel, think and learn. I like reading things from different languages and cultures because one essay or story tells much about that culture it’s from. I like seeing human relationships from different perspectives, and reading about thoughts and sentiments that are sometimes unique to a particular society or culture. It seems so selective. Strange.
A stumbling block on the path from zero confidence: How are you sure of whether you’re actually following personal desires or following a self-made projection of yourself, which can be false? (The wiles of the ego) Past mistakes may very well be repeated without awareness. When you deny yourself for too long, you become unsure of whether you’re accurately picking up what’s in the heart or simply echoing the contents of your immediate surroundings.
It’s not hard to make decisions once you know what your values are.
~Roy E Disney
But what if all you’ve been doing is passive absorbing, and the question becomes “How do you know what your values are?”
This is exactly the sort of thing I worry about.
I’m not a person. I’m not a living being. I’m just floating around and passively absorbing. It’s no wonder at all that I don’t know who I am. Every outburst in the office has been due to a nerve getting touched. Rendered a defensive mess by the reminder of my insecurity, whether consciously or unconsciously.
The worst thing is that I take it out on those closest to me when it isn’t their fault.
You think by following what they suggest, they’d be glad. But what painfully simplistic thinking that is. You know that everyone would be happier if you actually started acting like an actual human, rather than throwing tantrums in front of everyone. Hurry up. They don’t deserve it.
Yes, they don’t know you well enough to suggest decisions and give advice. They lack the skill sets to help you. Yeah, big deal. At least they’ll support you in whatever you choose.
I would think everyone, myself included, deserves me. Not crumbling remains of what used to be there.