A word has a soul. It is born of thought and it goes somewhere.
They said: “let us infuse power into lifeless letters, scattered around and see what they do with them.”
Screwed in disbelief, she threw her hands in the air yelling: “All men are the same.” And one by one they all acted the same. They lived up to her words, never was there any disappointment.
Words are accurate.
There’s a mall somewhere above, where all words are packaged as reality. Line after line, carefully shelved awaiting demand. In the heat of emotions, words are fired and orders are placed; orders need no confirmatory notice. A word is usually enough. In its self, weak and lifeless structures hanging around naked but fully clothed when dipped into feelings ready to execute.
Words are tricky things.
He bashed into the office in a bewildering rage and at the top of his voice screamed: “I quit this godforsaken job.”
This time, his words were readily served and his wish came true. Those are the type words we willfully abstain from; the words that spark emotions on more parties other than ourselves. With good reason, cautiousness is encouraged. A word can’t be taken back. Perhaps, his emotion had had the best of him. But once those words were said, there was no coming back.
Words outlast emotions.
Words can get people to do all or nothing for you. The simple placements coupled with the right tone can and will get all you want or all you do not want.
Quotes are a combination of basic letters collated to represent a string of thoughts, wise enough to be accepted and documented. In remembrance, we nod at the wisdom dated long ago in agreement that all great legacies are scribbled in words.
Words create legacies.
Engulfed by the pressure of catering, she blurted: “you must be very stupid! Would you stop that?” Little does she know that he would carry those words with him and they would resurface multiple times in diverse ways. In her mouth lays a tool that can shape the mind of her growing son and every word matters. But, does she know? Or does she blurt out prophecies in the spur-of-the-moment? Slowly yet surely he dances to the tune of the type of words he’s accustomed to hearing.
Words grow in people.
Who’s master, the tongue or the heart?
Which comes first?
Call upon a word and feel the energy. All words emit energy. Words and emotions are mates, they dance to the same rhythm; pattern by pattern, tune by tune, and they understand each other. A word can calm a feeling and a feeling can change a word. It is like a game of chess; all games have rules and losers. A mild irritation escalates at the mention of frustration. A tingling feeling of joy radiates at the mention of ecstatic.
Words can be hacked.
They are two words that determine all things: “I am.”
That enormous difference between: I did something stupid and I am stupid, I look beautiful and I am beautiful, I get good grades and I am smart.
Labels, huge labels bannered across our foreheads by self-chosen expressed or internally nurtured I-Am-Something. I wonder if the well-packaged frozen turkey screams at the counter when its label states N1500 instead of N4000.
Words form people.
Tell them what the mirror is for; mirrors are important people. Hiding behind the reflective walls stands an entrapped soul waiting to hear things, mimicking every word and every gesture. It remembers everything and it notices all things; the zit that’s about to pop, the fine lines carved at the corners of the mouth and the broken spirit. Nothing is ever missing; it smells horrendous deceit and forged personalities. But, it is the one who looks that wields the power.
Every word said by you to yourself is a promise.
Looking at her phone, she shivers in overwhelming anticipation. His words fill the clumsy hole dug by nature obliged to be filled with flowery words. Her hole has many roles one of which is an authority. Nature knows that this eruptive, calculating structure needs regulation.
Thus, a hole that rigs with loneliness serves as a solvent and it yearns for the warmth of words. Out of desperation she misreads signs and falls on the slippery tongue. He knows what she carries and he knows what to say. But, though she needs those words, she can say them herself. Rather, she waits.
“You can’t get enough people to tell you-you’re pretty if you think you are ugly.” T.D Jakes
Before words, there were thoughts. Thoughts are mother-keepers of all destinies…