Stoic

I always used to lament that I had a parasite on my brain. I lamented it because it caused me to be emotionally numb. It caused me not to care about things. I had knowledge of things but no feeling and it might have gotten on my nerves only nerves were strangers to me. Sometimes it would have been nice to cry at the drop of a hat, if it were someone's favourite hat you know and it got mussed up.

Well feelings maybe weren't all they were cracked up to be. Sometimes I would still like to have feelings about things, but as long as this thing is mooching off my sentiment, I might just as well grasp the glory of it. I even came up with a nobler name for the bug. I wasn't apathetic. I was stoic.

Being stoic is cool because you never have to get your feelings hurt. Not only that, but if someone stabs you in the back you can just shrug it off and if you have a really good surgeon, it's like it never happened at all. Being stoic also makes you look like Mother Teresa because you never get mad, and though looking like an aged saint is tough for a young man, I do it because I like to be pat on the back. Being stoic lets you choose your attitude. Naturally I choose happy. I'm always happy.

Sometimes, however, this bug slowly pulls its jaws from around my perception and then a kind of lead settles in on my heart, and frankly lead is a close cousin to bullets and I don't like having those near my heart, so I stall, "Whoa whoa whoa pal! Where do you think your going? I have a whole lifetime of unpleasant feelings for you to feast on!" And so he settles back in snugly and I relax in my drugged up happiness.

But sometimes maybe I think that I should have it removed or pour some salt on it or something. Sometimes I think maybe I'm called to something higher and something relational. Sometimes I think this way of living is unhealthy. I should man up and play cards with a real stoicity and I'd let it win. It's how we are supposed to feel. It's the truth.

Then I stop thinking about those things. I don't think about things I don't like to think about.

Power

Gosh I love words. I love them like a parent loves kids. I like to say them and write them down and combine them and recombine them. I like to give them away or keep them for myself. I like to invent them and style them and give one word several connotations or enunciations. I love putting prefixes on top and suffixes on bottom. I like using nouns as verbs and peeling adjectives into adverbs. I like to use them to describe and give vision and feeling and fine emotion. I like parade them like the harmonically sick in rounds of bulleted scenarios. I thrive on the crescendo and descendo of there marriages and divorce. Thank you for words my Father.

And wouldn't you know something so divine and exhilerating would also be fiendish and malignant. Words have to be handled with fear I hate to say. With a sort of automatic reverence. We've all seen what they can do to people. They have changed me (or warped me depending on whether you like me or not). I can give an example. Now I obviously had a say in the matter, but the words do effect the deed. Several years ago a joke took hold among my family and a few friends that I was arrogant. To this day I disconcur. I was very low at that time. Maybe not humble, but low. You see? Well I denied the arrogant tag until I was blue in the face. Eventually, I stopped denying it. I laughed along and made jokes about it and claimed it. I didn't really believe it, but I claimed it because I was tired of telling people to shut up. It was more fun to laugh with them. Then I started staging scenarios to make me appear more arrogant. I put on a show, there was attention to be had! After a while, the exaggerated arrogance that shocked people became reality. I was all the things I was joking about being. I was arrogant. What a few words could do! I've seen this concept work in much more sinister ways. I believe that if you drill something in someone's head so much, it's very likely that they will eventually accept it. I know because I've seen it more than once.

I've seen it take on a different role too. These words can blow someone up! They can take something wretched and turn it towards royalty. The potency is intense. You can use it for good or bad. It's delightful.

More on words? Words sway people. The entire populace often falls slave to the power of words. There are artists, real artists that can plant words and make them grow anyway you want them.

Words are our chief messengers. You don't know how powerful, you and I don't know.

Why God! He said He is the Word! His communication with us is through words.

What power these little intangibles have.