Soft words and hard hearts
Words used to be hard but the heart was soft. The words clamored over each other hoping for the heart to be understood. In time, with life, the realization came that there will never be acceptance, as long as it’s very right to exist remains under question. When your existence is threatened you change – like the water that flows around the rock, you learn to adapt to whatever life places on your path.
You learn to adapt but in the process you do change.
Now the words are soft but the heart is harder. I have learnt the value of things from people who don’t value them. Ultimately I have learnt that my value is whatever I deem it to be. I have learnt to play with words, to make it softer and more amenable. After years of being advised to be less direct and more diplomatic, I have learnt the art of ‘tact’ and I have had some really wise men to look up to for that.
I have also learnt to enjoy sarcasm as I play with words. They are so malleable. specially in those moments when your sarcasm could be your reason for your untimely death. But really, who doesn’t like the play on words?
I still hate small talk and I would much rather have in-depth passionate discussions instead. But I have learnt that small talks are necessary evil, you can never quite escape them.
Ultimately, our words are our paint brushes, the one’s with which we paint pictures of our existence, our reality, our everyday lives, our thoughts, our inner lives.