Supercalifragilisticexpialidicious, anyone?

In a world engulfed in technicalities and grammatically-pristine English papers, is there a way for a more better *wink* outlet for self-expression? Words surround our every being; they articulate our desires and proclamations; they make the intangible sensation of feelings a step closer towards reality, enabling the possibility for both empathy and sympathy. Inanimate and minuscule, yet they hold so much weight.

But words are just words, aren't they?

To break away from my noticeably enjoyed use of rhetorical questions, let me answer that last one: not quite. In fact, much like our societal limitations on humanity, language is jailed as well--defined by our handy friend, Merriam Webster. Or for other languages, some variation of it. Regardless if it's the infamous red book or a random pre-owned and unreadable version, once generic meanings are assigned and restrictions are set forth, words become official. "Legit", as we millennials say.

But there's another inconsistency. Slang. Informal and almost exclusive all on its own, as if another branch of a language--a newfound dialect, to be more precise. Despite its M.I.A status on the good ol' red book of officialness (Yes, there is a red line under that word. And yes, it's not technically a word. But yes, I will shamelessly keep it there), those who are exposed to such practice seem to have a mutual understanding. In fact, dare I say, a communal connection--a shared experience that is solely theirs. Do we degrade such use, or do we respect its exclusivity? And that, my friends, is a rhetorical question that is up for debate.

Such a disparity is even witnessed in my high school Spanish class, where native speakers tend to be challenged by the course, simply because of that far too extensive accent marks, or the right tense. Growing up integrated into the Hispanic culture, which consequently disregards perfected linguistics, can you really blame them? Would correcting their inherited cultural expressions also tarnish their distinct character? Again, not my place to answer such controversies, but a simple food for thought.

As an aspiring writer myself, I make up at least four uniquely unacceptable words everytime (like that one), only to be welcomed by that infamous red line. Grammatically incorrect? *Delete*

Does that mean I don't deserve to be a writer? Am i supposedly (or maybe even...supposably) shunned from literary society? Shunned I shall technically be, but if that's the case, let other authors be barred as well. Sue Dr. Suess. Guilty on all counts. Crime: creating the word "nerd", among many others.

How can such a literary felony ensue, however, in a domineering world of eccentric writers. We constantly push the envelope. We improvise. We dare.

We create.

Who even gave Shakespeare the right to sporadically invent more than 1700 words of conventional English? But, alas, we are "dauntless" ourselves (King Henry VI, line 18). We accepted it. And from there, we grew. Still growing.

Indeed, we are in a state of pandemonium (Hey, Milton's Paradise Lost). Well, a literary one, to say the least. In a world where humanity constantly bumps heads, Sir Thomas More's depicted Utopia is indeed a concept far within reach.

Instead of unnecessary criticisms, however, let us celebrate our differences. Allow language to be malleable, a platform for much needed self-proclamations. Let it be our voice. Let there be a voice of my own, and a different voice for every single individual.

As a first step towards unity, realize that difference is our only mutual connection in this crazy, beautiful, and deformed life. And I have only discussed its deformities linguistically. Boy, there are plenty more--maybe a topic for next time.

And so, all we can do is enjoy the ride.