Words are nothing. Not really. They're simply combinations of the smallest bits of data to form larger bits. From there, we string words together to form phrases, fragments. And then sentences, simple and complex alike. And then, those sentences are thrown together on a page or on a screen to form paragrahs and stories. Words, the second smallest pit of information that the human brain can process, are, in reality, nothing more than data, a phonetic string of code that our brains interpret.
For example, the word I. One letter, one of the shortest words in the world, and yet, when you see it, you know what it means. If you're reading this in my voice, you probably pictured me, the girl at the bottom of the page, sitting at a computer with my headphones in. You should have, at least, because in that contex, the word I, encompasses all that I am. If you're reading this in your own voice you read it as a personal word, it represents you, who you are, what you do, what you feel, think, say, believe. It represents who you are. One letter. And if I add another letter, I can creat another word, that means another thing entirely. Or I add a word, and change the meaning that way.
For example, I tried. Together these two small words, six letters, could mean a multitude of things. They could be the last words of a little brown eyed girl as she lets herself fall heels over head from the top of the capitol building, or and admission of failure. They represent an effort made, and a failure. Two words, two small pieces of data, and in reading them, you feel something, an emotion. Look at them in the screen, alone.
I tried.
Ominous, right? Yes. But incredible, too. These two small syllables, evoke emotion. Now imagine if there were more words. Whole strings of them. They could contain a location, an instruction, or a question. Or they could contain an idea, an inspiration, a motivation. War is just a word, technically. But, when you hear it, you picture violence, bloodshed, guns, and loss. Or, I do, at least. War is an idea. It's the idea that violence and hatred are the way to get what you want. Once upon a time, war was fought by men in wool uniforms standing in lines and stepping over the fallen to close ranks. And then it was faught with tear gas and bombs. And now, war is fought with words, strings of data traded and smuggles and thrown about in every which way. A word may only be a small bit of data, in many cases, made up of one letter or two, but words are powerful. They are dangerous and beautiful and immortal.
They are dangerous because in the wrong hands, they can be used against the person that spoke them, they can be thrown back exactly as they left or twisted and warped into something new and ugly. They can bring that which hides in the shadows to light and cast doubt on that which appears to gleam.
They are beautiful because they represent all that we are. They tell the stories of our lives, they record moments and memories we don't want to forget. They tug at the heart and bring tears to the eyes and steal breath away.
They are immortal, because once spoken, they can never be taken away. You only get so many words, choose wisely.