Hello. Welcome to my blog. This is exciting, isn't it? Pull up a chair, make yourself comfortable. Help yourself to a beaker of Ribena. Are you ready? Then we shall begin...
Words. I like words. Long ones (Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis: a lung disease caused by silica dust); short ones (tine: a sharp, projecting point or prong, as of a fork); English ones (spiffing: excellent or splendid); foreign ones (Schadenfreude: the satisfaction or pleasure felt at someone else's misfortune). I'm not fussy. I like them all.
Words are powerful. Choosing the right words can open doors, while the wrong ones can close them. I always marvel at how beautiful language is; in that there are so many words out there that it's possible to express your exact feelings so they can be understood by another. Although - and I slip into parenthesis to elaborate - there is a problem. Words are fickle things, and they can mean different things to different people. I believe that I personally have a rather unorthodox understanding of words. I put this down to the fact that I study languages, and therefore, to me, it's second nature to guess the meaning, and emotions, of words. (Alternatively - or additionally - it may be because I try to read between the lines, maybe a bit too much sometimes).
If I could, I would talk in my own language. An amalgamation of the languages I know, as sometimes the English word for something just doesn't have the desired emotion behind it that, for example, a German word may have. Take the word ,,Heimat''. This is the German word for 'Home', but it's so much more than that. Behind this word is such passion. Of belonging, of love and acceptance. It's such an abstract concept that it's hard to explain. To verbalise the emotions this word brings out of me is impossible. It's a feeling deep inside of me (Electricity, Elton John... man, I do love Billy Elliot) that is just so... raw.
But, alas, it's rather late, and I ought to go to bed. Also, I think short and sweet (and concise one hopes...) will trump.
Sox
Word: Panthalassa: the name for the universal sea that surrounded Pangaea.
Band: Gogol Bordello
Smell: Grass
Number: Always Four
