Sometimes, you hear a word. Sometimes you hear a word and you go: Oh... Oh, I like this word. It is a nice word. It is a beautiful word. It has nice sounds and nice syllables and nice meanings and nice people who say it and I think it means nice things and I think... I think... I think that maybe, just maybe, this word might mean me.
And so you google this word and you youtube this word and you celebrate this word and you learn from the artists, the champions, the epitomes of the word what it means to be that word.
And then you pull back. You pull back because you can never be those people, can never be so good, so perfect, so
right as these people manage to be. You're probably not. Not good enough. Not pure enough. Not perfect enough.
And so you keep your head down.
You slink away.
Quietly.
Dejectedly.
Like you were never there to begin with.
Like you never heard that word.
That word that you thought... hoped... dreamed... might be you.
And you wonder: If not this, than what
am I? What word means
me?
And you forget.
You forget that a word is not made by a dictionary. That it's not defined by a youtube vid and not owned by a person. You forget that there's no people out there whose job it is to make up words, but that
you make up the words. That
you give the meanings and the definitions. That if you use the word, it is yours as much as anyone's. You don't have to be perfect or pure or right. You don't have to fit other's definition or demands to a T.
Because if the word seems to be you?
Then it probably is.
